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ellieputellas · 11 days ago

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puppy love | ona batlle x reader

headcanons — Ona Batlle as your first love You and Ona Batlle have been best friends since childhood, always knowing each other better than anyone else. But as the years pass, hidden feelings begin to surface, and what once felt like innocent puppy love starts to bloom into something more.

contains: 10k+ words, firstlove!Ona, artist!reader, fluff, childhood best friends, friends-to-lovers, longterm yearning, some angst... not too much i promise, occasional use of y/n, cursing masterlist | please do not repost or plagiarize this.

firstlove!Ona and you met when you were both 7 years old. She was a new student at your school. At first, she was quiet and reserved, which made you want to take her under your wing; something about her drew you in. So, you would hang out with her during recess and sit beside her during class. It took her some time to open up but you were determined to be her friend.

firstlove!Ona wasn’t sure what to think of you at first. She was used to being alone, content with her own company—until you came along, full of sunshine, with that gummy smile and endless yapping. You were the sunshine she needed in her life. She decided that maybe it wasn’t so bad having a friend.

firstlove!Ona admired everything about you. She loved how you always took charge of class activities, acted so mature and polite to your teachers, and did so well in art class, teaching her different coloring techniques. You were her idol, and she wasn’t shy about letting you know.

firstlove!Ona grew fiercely protective of you. You were sunshine and always full of smiles and giggles. You also loved dressing up to school, with big bows and multicolored clips all over your hair which, for some reason, meant all the lame, insecure boys in your school loved to pick on you. Ona decided that as long as she was around, no one would dull your sparkle.

firstlove!Ona kicked your bully in the nuts after he stole the new pretty, blue ribbon clips out of your hair, calling you lame and girly. He was older than Ona, taller than her too… but that didn’t stop her. She chased him to no end with the most frightening expression an eight-year-old could have.

You watched as the nine-year-old boy keeled over in pain as Ona stood close by, panting after she had run after him. The boy cried out as Ona smirked in satisfaction. "Don't ever mess with her again." She barked at him.

You rushed over to Ona. "Are you okay?" To which she just smiled at you genuinely and said, "Of course, I got your clips back."

firstlove!Ona would draw only two things in art class: you, or you and her together. The teacher would ask everyone to draw dinosaurs. She would draw you two as dinosaurs. Cat? You two riding a giant cat. Her family? Her family… with you inserted there somehow. A rainbow? You two underneath a rainbow.

firstlove!Ona didn't have a concept of a crush or romantic love back then. But all your teachers noticed just how much the little girl admired you.

firstlove!Ona would often insist that you play house with her. Your favorite part of playing house was cooking “food” with her, which was just the two of you mixing soap, coins, and loose beads in a large bowl. But, Ona’s favorite part of playing house was being the husband while you were the wife. She’d brush your hair and hold your hand because, to her, that’s what husbands did. And, whenever other kids tried to tell her that she couldn't be your husband because she was a girl, she'd threaten to kick their balls too.

firstlove!Ona loved your movie dates at her house, especially when you two watched Disney princess movies.

"Ona, you can be Princess Belle and I'll be Princess Ariel!" You said, playing pretend after watching Beauty and the Beast on one of your play dates. Ona frowned. "Ew, I don't want to be Belle!" You frowned back. "Why? She's so pretty, just like you!" You teased. "I don't want to marry a beast," She exclaimed. "And I don't want you to be Ariel 'cause that would mean you'll be a fish and I can't swim that well yet." You laughed. "Then what princesses do you want us to be, then?" "We should just be our own princesses with no fish and no beasts and no princes." She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and you looked at her like she was crazy. "No prince?" You frowned. "Can we be princesses with no prince?" "Yeah, duh! It's better to have no prince so we don't have to spend all our time kissing them and we can just play all day!" She exclaimed proudly.

firstlove!Ona was already very competitive at an early age. She was the best at playing tag in the playground, never letting anyone beat her. Well, except you. Even if you were almost twice as slow as she was, she would purposely slow down her pace just so you could catch up and tag her.

"It's so unfair when you two play." One of the kids in the playground said. "Ona always just lets you win." Ona frowned at her. "You're just bitter 'cause you run like a grandma." "Well, we still don't want you to join us anymore." The kid said, crossing her arms. "You're not our friend anymore." "Good! We'll go ahead and find friends who can run faster." Ona shouted.

firstlove!Ona loved to play football. She would move so well with the ball that the parents in the playground would think that she was older than she was. (You weren't as good as she was, but that was fine. You were more than happy being her cheerleader.)

firstlove!Ona hated it when the boys she played football with would say they had a crush on you. The more they said you were cute, the more she was determined to be better than them just so you would focus on only her and not on them.

firstlove!Ona's parents quickly realized how skilled she was in football and decided to enroll her in some basic classes near your school. She was excited but quickly got disappointed when she learned you weren't joining her.

"But why can't she join me?" One complained. Her parents sighed exasperatedly. "Ona, your best friend has other interests; you can't expect her to do everything you want to do." They tried to reason out to the eight-year-old. "And her mom already told me that she isn't interested in football." "But she likes being with me when I play football." She pouted. "She can just sit in the side of the field and watch me play." "Ona, her parents are not going to let her sit around all afternoon at the side of a field to watch you play. Besides, her mom said she's taking some art classes nearby so you can visit her after, okay?" Her mom explained to which Ona just scoffed.

firstlove!Ona started playing with local boy’s leagues in your town since there wasn't a local girl's team. She was starting to get more and more popular in school due to her football skills but she never wanted to hang out with anyone else except you.

firstlove!Ona secretly hated your new friends from art class. She hated how you had inside jokes that she never understood. She hated how you had matchy bracelets with some stupid girl named Carla. She hated how she saw Carla brushing your hair after your art class. She basically hated Carla ever since Carla bid you goodbye with a "Bye, Bestie!" which was off-limits to her. She was your best friend, not this stupid girl.

firstlove!Ona tolerated your art friends just so she could be around you. All the other girls tried to be nice to Ona too but they always did think she was kinda gross for always being covered in grass and mud, and that she was too clingy and possessive of you.

firstlove!Ona was invited to her first group sleepover for your ninth birthday. She hated it; it felt like your art friends were suddenly invading activities you used to do only with each other but since you liked them, she was forced to suck it up. They made you happy, at least.

"Let's play Truth or Dare!" Carla exclaimed. "I'll spin this bottle and if it lands on you, you choose truth or dare." All the girls chuckled and yelped, making Ona roll her eyes. She hated how shrill and loud your friends were. Much to Ona's surprise, the bottle spun to face her. She groaned, unwilling to play with her clueless nemesis Carla. "Truth, I guess." The girls all thought of their question. Your other friend Julia finally asked. "Who is your crush?" Ona looked confused. "My crush?" Julia nodded. "Crush means someone you like." “Oh yeah, I forgot what it meant.” Ona just shrugged. "I guess, then it's Y/N." The girls laughed as you awkwardly looked away from Ona, feeling a little bit shy and embarrassed. You didn't know why but her answer made you a bit flustered. Ona looked confused. "Why are you laughing?" "Crush means like-like, silly. Like someone you wanna marry or someone you wanna kiss." Carla explained. “Not just your best friend.” "Oh," Ona frowned. "Then it's still Y/N." The girls laughed again and you hid your face in your hands as you grew red at your best friend's answer. "It has to be a boy, Ona! You can't have a crush on a girl." Carla exclaimed, still chuckling. The other girls laughed, thinking Ona was stupid. But Ona genuinely met what she was saying. Ona gave her a stank face. "Then I don't have one, I guess."

firstlove!Ona felt shy after the whole Truth or Dare game. She decided to stay silent for the rest of the night, conscious of what she said around your friends. They already looked at her weirdly whenever she hung out with you after your art class with her muddy boots and grass-stained shorts. She didn't like how she felt like she had given them another reason to find her weird.

firstlove!Ona also felt shy about her gift after she had seen all of the drawings and friendship bracelets your friend had made for you. All she was able to prepare was a letter about how much she loved being your friend even if you liked drawing and she liked football. She tried to make it fancy with glitter and stickers but compared to your friend's gifts, it looked so messy.

"Ona, are you still awake?" You asked as you saw the girl standing by her overnight bag instead of beside you and the other girls, who were already drifting to sleep. You walked over to her to see the letter with purple glitter and Hello Kitty stickers all over it. "What's that?" Ona looked down shyly at it. "It's my gift... but I don't know if I want to give it to you. It's so ugly." You frowned. "No, it's not." You pouted. "Well, it's my birthday and you have to obey everything I tell you to do and I want you to give me your gift." Ona hesitated but decided that she wasn't one to go above birthday law so she handed it over. She watched you genuinely smile as she read your letter. It made her feel less insecure about it. You smiled at her, holding the letter to your heart, not caring about the glitter getting on your favorite unicorn pajamas. "Ona, this is my favorite gift ever." Ona beamed in joy. "Really?" "Well, duh! It's so sweet and I like the Hello Kitty stickers, especially this one where she has flowers." You pointed it out. You paused before continuing. "Also, I'm sorry my friends laughed when you said I was your crush. Honestly, I think you're my crush too." Ona felt her face get warm as you said it. "Oh... that's nice." She smiled. "Does that mean you're my girlfriend?" You thought about it, not sure exactly how it would work out. You’ve only heard about girlfriends and crushes from TV shows, and you've only ever seen girlfriends with boyfriends. "Is that allowed?" Ona frowned. "Why would it not be allowed?" You shrugged. You couldn't argue with that top-tier argument. "Okay, I can be your girlfriend."

firstlove!Ona went home after that sleepover, beaming to her parents that you were her girlfriend. Her mom tried to ask if she meant “girl-SPACE-friend” but Ona got mad, insisting that she actually meant girlfriend with no space and that you were going to get married.

firstlove!Ona grew fond of kissing your cheek and holding your hand. She was too giddy over the fact that you were her girlfriend. Even if she had no clue exactly how girlfriends worked, she was just happy because that meant you liked her more than you liked Carla, which was more than enough for her.

firstlove!Ona frowned when you tried to tell her that your parents said you were too young to be girlfriends and to understand what a relationship was.

“That’s stupid,” Ona complained. “We watched Hannah Montana. We saw her have a relationship. We totally get it!” You sighed, shaking your head in disapproval. “Yeah… but my mom said I have to wait until I’m in high school before I even think about dating.” “Fine, just as long as I’ll be your bestest friend, over anyone else.” She pouted, making you promise.

firstlove!Ona was getting so much attention for her football skills. By the time you were 10, there was not a single person in her age group in your town — boys and girls — that was on her level. It didn’t take long until everyone was talking about the tiny girl who played like a beast.

firstlove!Ona learned about different celebrations she could do online. She thought of which creative one she could do just in case she gets a goal. While watching a teen movie, she saw some guy playing basketball wink and blow a kiss at a girl he liked. Ona somehow decided that that was the coolest thing to do. So, she started being greedy with the ball and the goals, just so she could do her little loser-ish celebration and blow you a kiss.

firstlove!Ona naturally caught the attention of La Masia scouts. They would watch her games, taking several notes. Suddenly, football got serious for Ona. She would start training more and there was more pressure for her to perform well. It was more than the twelve-year-old girl could handle.

“What if I just give up?” Ona’s voice was barely a whisper, muffled by the blankets you both huddled under. Her words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and uncertain. You moved closer to her in the bed, resting on your side so that you would be facing her. Ona was resting on her back with her arm resting on her forehead. “I’m scared... I’m scared I’ll disappoint everyone, even if I train all day and barely get any rest. It feels like I’m not enough. Maybe this isn’t meant for me.” You frowned, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. This wasn’t the Ona you knew; the Ona you knew never doubted herself and was confident almost to the point of cockiness. All the pressure seemed to be getting to her. “Quitting… but you love football? How can you possibly give up on it when you love it more than you love me?” You joked to lighten up the mood but Ona took it seriously and lightly smacked you as if to reprimand you. Ona turned on her side to face you and now you were both face-to-face. “But now… I don’t know. It feels like I’m not enjoying it anymore. I feel insecure.” Her voice shook a bit. It was hard seeing Ona like this. You had never seen her so… small. It was weird because Ona’s energy and passion was never small. Not even quiet, seven-year-old Ona acted like this. It hurt seeing your best friend struggle with something that she did so well. You reached over to gently touch her face. “Ona…” You started. “I know it’s hard… but everyone just has their eyes on you right now because of how good you are. These scouts and coaches from all over… they’re here because you are worth it. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t believe in you.” ”And… even if they don’t pick you or even if you do decide to quit, I will be there. I’ll still be your number one cheerleader — on and off the pitch.” You smiled at her. “I’m here for you, no matter what.” And for the first time that evening, Ona gave you a small smile. It wasn’t the usual huge grin that was accompanied by a sparkle in her eyes, but it was something. And that was enough.

firstlove!Ona did the best she could in her next games and it showed. She was dynamite on that pitch and everyone just knew then that her future was secured.

firstlove!Ona started training in La Masia just before you two entered high school. She was still studying at your school but she was taking fewer classes and doing more training, which she didn’t mind. She was learning so much and improving exponentially, completely thriving on the pitch. Off the pitch, she was also doing pretty well. She made a bunch of friends from La Masia who she would enthusiastically tell you about whenever you got time together. The only thing Ona hated about being in La Masia was that so much of her life was now occupied by football. She'd wake up early to train, then it was class, then it was more training. She barely got time to be around you.

firstlove!Ona was so busy that she was one of the last people in sophomore year to find out about Pascual.

"Who the fuck is Pascual?" Ona asked your mutual classmate and friend, Julia. "Where did she meet him?" Julia rolled her eyes, realizing quickly that Ona had been busy for a while. "He's our classmate, Ona." She answered. "He's been our classmate since we were 10." Ona frowned. She never paid attention to the other people in class that much. She spent most of her time with you, after all. So, naturally, this Pascual guy was never on her radar. "And now what is it that I'm hearing that he's pursuing her? Who does he think he is?" Ona said loudly, not giving a fuck if anyone in the school hallway could hear. “Bet he’s like some lazy dumbass, just like everyone who has a crush on her.” "He's actually really nice and pretty smart. I know he even volunteers…” Julia went on and on talking about Pascual, seeming to approve of the guy for you. Julia noticed Ona clenching her jaw and frowning, causing her to roll her eyes. “He’s actually great, Ona. You're just too in love with your best friend for you to see that." Ona didn’t bother denying. She just rolled her eyes.

firstlove!Ona always knew she enjoyed being close to you, relishing the time spent together. She always knew she loved you… a lot… as a friend. But when the whole Pascual situation came to light, something shifted in her. She started to see you in a new light. Thoughts of you consumed her more and more, and with them came feelings she hadn’t anticipated—jealousy, possessiveness, clinginess. It was as though her obsession with you, something she’d always brushed off as just what best friends felt, was now much more intense, more undeniable. What once felt natural, and familiar, had become charged with a different kind of energy. It just felt… different.

Ona and you sat side by side, eyes glued to the screen as you both watched the new MTV show your friend had recommended. Ona shifted uncomfortably, clearly awkward about watching a show centered on two childhood best friends who’d started dating, especially with everything running through her mind lately. “Karma’s kinda annoying, not gonna lie,” you said, crunching on a chip. “Like, Amy’s so obviously in love with her, and Karma still doesn’t get it. How can she be that oblivious?” Ona’s gaze flickered toward you for a moment. She bit her lip, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah… so clueless.”

Later that night, Ona and you lay cuddled up in bed, updating each other about each other’s lives. You’d both been pulled in different directions by your hectic schedules, but you always made the most of the time you had together, finding ways to stay close even when things got busy. “And, my friend invited me to volunteer as an art teacher at the orphanage where he volunteers at. So, I might try to do that soon.” You shared, humming thoughtfully. “I’m thinking of doing it soon. He said I’d be really good with the kids.” The words hung in the air, and Ona’s mind immediately went to what Julia had said about Pascual. So, is she hanging out with this guy? Does she like him? “Hmm? Which friend?” Ona asked as she knitted her eyebrows together as she tried to keep her voice casual. You noticed the change in her expression immediately. You two had been friends for so long that you could always tell when something was on her mind. “Pascual, from class,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “You should come too, teach football and stuff. The kids would love it.” Ona nodded, but her gaze remained distant, still thinking about that Pascual guy. You chuckled to lighten the mood before reaching out to touch her arm. “I’m sure the kids would love to be around a future football star.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled, all thoughts of Pascual fading away. “You think too highly of me.” She responded, trying to play it cool but the pink on her cheeks gave her away. “But sure… I’d love to volunteer.” ”Look at us both, a couple of philanthropists.” You joked. “Who would have thought the same Ona that kicked kids in the nutsack would be volunteering?” Ona smiled and sighed. “You know, I have this new friend from La Masia who would be so into volunteering too.” She brought up thoughtfully. “Maybe I should invite her to join us.” “Ooh, is she the girl you said who plays really well?” You asked and Ona’s eyes sparkled. Ona nodded. “Aitana’s like next level on the pitch. She literally plays like Iniesta,” She gushed. “And even outside the sport, she’s so amazing. She’s, like, their class top student and she reads so many books…” You hummed, thinking about how Ona used to gush about you like that before. Now, it was some girl named Aitana. So, now, it was your turn to be jealous.

You lay on your side with your back turned to Ona, trying to drift to sleep. But no matter how much you closed your eyes, your mind was still buzzing with thoughts: the show you’d watched, the conversation about volunteering, the conversation about Ona’s new idol from La Masia, and just... everything. You haven’t done a sleepover with Ona in a while and all these thoughts paired with her proximity were just making your hormones go haywire for no reason. “You awake?” You turned around, surprised to find Ona’s eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling. She looked over at you, her expression soft but thoughtful. You gave her a small smile. “Yeah…” She hummed, eyes flickering in consideration before she finally spoke. “How about you cuddle up to me? You always said my warmth makes you feel drowsy.” She offered nervously. “I could use some of your warmth too.” Her offer was light and casual but Ona was actually feeling nervous as she said it. Ona’s arms had been craving your presence ever since she got to your house but she was afraid it would be too awkward to just hug you or cuddle with you. She knew she was being ridiculous because you two used to literally live in each other’s hugs. Lately, though, everything felt different. The emotions and feelings swirling inside her were more intense and mixed with the strange rush of puberty, it made her feel shy and unsure. But she still couldn’t resist it; she missed having you pressed against her. You nodded, beaming. “I’d love that.” You shifted closer, resting your head against her chest. Ona wrapped her arm around you, pulling you in, and you instinctively placed your hand on her stomach. It was a simple gesture, but it made her acutely aware of the connection between you both—each touch felt loaded with meaning. Once she had gained enough confidence, she started brushing your hair with her hand, her gentle fingers soft against your scalp. “Remember when we used to be girlfriends…” She asked with a light tone. “We had no clue what we were talking about but I genuinely was so into it.” You laughed at that childhood memory. “Yeah, my mom was so confused when I told her.” You recalled. “She really had to sit me down and explain what the difference between girl friends and girlfriends was.” Ona chuckled at that, the sound warm and relaxed, but then fell quiet for a moment. You could feel her hesitating like she was choosing her words carefully. “Do you think you’d ever have a relationship? Like, with a boyfriend or... a girlfriend?” She asked it so casually, but you could sense the weight behind her question. Especially with the way her voice trailed off towards the end. You’d never really talked about your sexualities, and the last time crush you had, as far as Ona remembered, was on the lion from Lion King from when you were both seven. So, it always left her curious but afraid of asking you about it… afraid that it would make her have to talk about her own sexuality which she never really wanted to think about. ”Hmm, I don’t know. There isn’t really anyone I like.” You responded vaguely. “Why? Do you like someone?” You waited with bated breath. You didn’t know for sure what you wanted to hear but it still made you anxious. Unbeknownst to you, Ona was sharing the same nervous feeling that you felt. She wondered if you could hear her heartbeat against her chest. “Uh…” She started, her voice faltering. “No one.” She sounded unconvincing which you took note of but you didn’t push any further. Huh, could it be that Aitana girl? “But I’m glad you’re my first relationship, even if it wasn’t a real one,” Ona said, going back to your conversation about your childhood memory. “That just means whoever comes next is still the second.” You rolled your eyes, the slight jealousy you felt fizzling out. She was the same, old possessive best friend you had, and somehow, that brought you comfort.

firstlove!Ona felt annoyed whenever she would see you with Pascual. She hasn’t felt that jealous and possessive over you since Carla from your art school. It was obvious to everyone how much Ona hated Pascual, bullying him for seemingly no reason. Well, obvious to everyone but you.

Ona seethed when she saw you sitting with him during lunch. Without a second thought, she stormed over to your table, where you were laughing with Pascual and the rest of your friends. Ignoring everyone, she fixed her gaze on him, her jaw clenched. She tilted her head slightly to the side, gesturing for him to move, as if the space beside you was her birthright. “Move,” She ordered in a low voice. “That’s my seat.” Pascual was used to Ona’s possessiveness. He knew how clingy she could be, and to be honest, he never minded when she wasn’t around—because that meant more time to get to know you. But when Ona was around, he knew he would not have the opportunity to get a word in without Ona basically glaring daggers at him. He sighed, trying to keep his cool. “I got here first.” “Tell it to someone who cares,” Ona shot back. Pascual muttered under his breath, but he gave in, scooting over to the other side of the table with a resigned sigh. Meanwhile, you were oblivious to the silent war playing out just inches away. You smiled at Ona, wrapping your arms around her in a warm hug. “Ona, I missed you,” you murmured, completely unaware of the charged atmosphere. Ona, however, didn’t take her eyes off Pascual. Her lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smirk as she raised her eyebrows, silently daring him to say something. It was clear she wasn’t just competing for a seat.

On another occasion, Ona leaned uncomfortably close to Pascual as he tried to focus on drawing you. Pascual automatically stiffened up to Ona hovering around him again. She was always like this whenever she was around — too intrusive, too intimidating, too there. What made it worse was that Ona had just come from training, her freshly showered hair still damp, and the droplets were slowly dripping onto Pascual and his sketchbook. Each drop seemed to drive him a little mad, the cold wetness only adding to his growing irritation. Pascual looked up at Ona and gave her an incredulous look. “What, Ona?” “Huh,” Ona said, eyeing the drawing with exaggerated curiosity. “Who is that supposed to be?” Pascual sighed, exasperatedly as he pointed at you who was sitting across the table too focused on your own drawing. “Isn’t it obvious?” Ona huffed, pretending to think. The drawing was pretty decent — better than she could ever do — but she was never going to let him know that. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at the sketch and loudly asked. “Why’d you give her a fivehead? You hate her or something?” You looked up curiously, previously oblivious to the exchange. Ona was giving you an innocent smile while Pascual was trying hard not to snap at your best friend as he muttered. “It’s just the angle.”

The poor guy liked you so much, even though you were completely oblivious to his advances. And despite your best friend making his life a living hell at every opportunity, he still tried—harder than anyone could’ve expected. Ona skipped obnoxiously to where you were sitting in the front of the class, beside Pascual. It didn’t help that he always ended up next to you. That was another reason Ona couldn’t stand him. She was always a little late to class because of her training, so the seats were usually already taken by the time she arrived. And today, of course, you were stuck with him. “Congrats on getting the best grade!” Ona chirped, throwing her arm around your shoulders before plopping herself down in your lap. "You're so smart. I’m so proud to be your best friend.” Pascual couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her usual attempt to rattle him. He was used to it by now, but that didn’t make it any easier. Ona caught the eye roll, and a mischievous spark lit up in her eyes. She glimpsed at the paper on his table, snatching it without his permission. "Huh," she said, examining the grade with exaggerated interest, "87... that's nothing compared to my best friend’s 95." She flashed a knowing smile at him. "Guess she’s too smart for you, huh?" Pascual frowned but grew flustered by the comment. “I distributed the papers and saw you got an 83 so…” He wanted to snap back but it came out softer and meeker than he intended. Ona just smirked, taunting him. “And what about it?” Pascual opened his mouth, ready to fire back, but stopped himself. He could’ve said something—he could’ve retorted—but he didn’t. Instead, he looked at you, your smile more than enough to make him swallow his pride. He knew better than to engage in one of Ona’s little mind games, especially when she was already enjoying herself. He had been working so hard on making his slow courtship of you for a year and there was no way he was going to blow it now.

firstlove!Ona was pretty content with how clueless you were with Pascual. At first, it did anger her whenever he was around, always so desperate for your attention. But now, it brought her happiness whenever she’d go to you and he was around because that meant it was another opportunity to embarrass him in front of you. Although, you never really minded their interactions, chalking it up to just banter, even going as far as to cluelessly think they were starting to be friends.

firstlove!Ona was practically seething when she got to school and saw Pascual hovering over your locker, presenting you with a red rose. She looked at your face with your doe-eyed expression and your cheeks flushed, shocked by a friend’s sudden confession. Ona had to take herself out of the scene, knowing she would react badly if she let herself watch it unfold.

firstlove!Ona finally stopped running from her thoughts, forcing herself to confront the feelings she’d been denying for so long. She’d always laughed off the jokes about her being in love with you. She never really thought too much about it, chalking it up to just banter. But now, seeing the way he looked at you—seeing how she felt when he did—it hit her harder than she expected. She wasn’t just annoyed that some guy liked you. She was hurt. And it wasn’t just about friendship jealousy—it was something deeper, something that made her feel exposed, vulnerable, like a part of her she’d never wanted to face was staring back at her, undeniable.

firstlove!Ona decided that tormenting the guy who liked you wasn’t going to be enough. This time, she actually wanted to show you that she could be better was better than him. She wanted to splurge on a bouquet of flowers but she had already blown her allowance on new football socks. So, instead, she hopped the neighbor's fence just to pick flowers from their large garden. She could get in trouble but she didn't care. She wanted to give you a bouquet of flowers that would put Pascual’s rose to shame.

The first thing you noticed when Ona came over to your house for your study date was the beautiful array of flowers she had tied together with a ribbon. You gushed at the different flowers — lavenders, marigolds, poppies. They were so stunning. “W-what? These are so stunning! What is this for?” She'd smirk and shrug, nonchalantly as she unconsciously tried to hide the scratch on her arm she got from scraping it on the fence after the neighbor's dog chased her out of the garden. “Just wanted to show my appreciation for you.” The blush on your cheeks grew and you quickly turned around to hide it from Ona. “Let me put this in a vase. Hold on.” You said as you scurried. Ona casually followed you to the kitchen, looking around your house to see if you had a rose displayed anywhere. “So, I heard Pascual gave you a rose the other day.” You paused, feeling odd that she was suddenly bringing it up after she had brought you a bouquet. “Yeah, it was weird.” You said, shivering from the recollection of the awkward interaction.” She practically beamed at your response. “Yeah?” “Yeah, I had no clue he liked me. I genuinely thought he was just around me because he was sad and had no friends.” You responded honestly as you filled a vase with water. “I had to give the rose to Julia just cause I felt weird bringing it home with me.” You sighed. “Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about it. I just feel bad for the poor guy but also… grossed out, y’know.” You said frankly. Ona couldn’t hide her smile, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe how clueless you were with him but she was still happy now that she knew Pascual was finally out of the picture.

firstlove!Ona moved out of your school during your junior year, a decision driven by her desire to focus more on her football career. She was fully immersed in the La Masia system now—training with some of the best, living and breathing the game. At first, it felt like a punch to the gut, not seeing your best friend every day. But you quickly realized it wasn’t all bad. If anything, it meant Ona was on the rise, becoming a bigger deal with each passing day, and that was something to be proud of. Besides, no matter how packed her schedule was, Ona always made time for you. The moment her training sessions ended, she’d sprint to your school, barely taking a breath. firstlove!Ona was slowly becoming a football celebrity in your community. Now, whenever she’d visit school, there were people always hovering around you to get a glimpse of the U17 Spain player. It made you proud. But… you didn’t like how girls were always fawning over her. They would be running to you in school, asking you if Ona was single. Whenever you two were out, there was always someone making eyes at your best friend. It was amusing, at first. Then it got repetitive and annoying, always leaving you feeling uneasy.

“Hi, Ona. My friend is, like, a really big fan.” A girl said to Ona, completely not even acknowledging your presence. She pointed back to their table across the restaurant where a bunch of other girls were giggling. “She was wondering if she could ask for your number.” Ona looked over to the table and saw a pretty girl with long brown hair waving back at her. It was undeniable she was stunning but Ona just... wasn’t that interested. She was here to have dinner with you after all. And to her, there wasn't anyone else more stunning than you. Ona shot a look at you, gauging your reaction. But to you, it read differently. You thought Ona didn’t want to give her number out because you were there. You shrugged awkwardly at her. “Go ahead, Ona. She looks cute.” Ona awkwardly chuckled, not sure how to feel about it. She was honestly kind of disappointed that you even encouraged her to do it. “Oh, uh okay…” She said, causing the girl to smile widely and jump up. You looked down at your salad bowl, suddenly losing interest. "Here, I'll write it down and tell her to text me that she's the girl from the restaurant or whatever."

Ona was driving you home after the dinner. After she gave out her number, you grew quiet, not wanting to talk much about anything anymore. She was confused as to why you were suddenly acting out when you didn’t seem to be affected by it initially. Could she be jealous? Ona looked over to you. You were staring out of the window, silent. But, why would she be jealous? “So…” Ona said cautiously, drumming her fingers on the driver’s wheel. “I assume the salad was bad?” You just hummed out a response, not even bothering to look at her. You sighed. “You should have just let me go ahead,” You said, shifting awkwardly in your seat. "I told you I could have just taken the bus." She frowned. “Why would I let you take the bus?” ”You could have stayed and chatted with those girls.” You muttered under your breath. “That would have made them real happy." To your shock, Ona chuckled. You turned to her and saw the expression on her face. She looked amused. You looked at her questioningly and she just shook her head, smiling. “What?” “Nothing,” She smiled, locking eyes with you. “You’re just being cute right now." You blushed and looked away, feeling your heart thump faster at how she looked at you. Ona chuckled at your reaction and said. "Glad to know I'm not the only jealous, possessive one..." And just like that, you knew that she knew.

firstlove!Ona knew at that moment that you shared the same attraction she had for you. She didn’t know how serious it was on your end but it was just satisfying to know that her feelings (or at least, her attraction) were somehow reciprocated. A year ago, she had finally come to terms with the truth: she had a crush on you. At first, the idea of being in love with her best friend had felt confusing, almost impossible to process. But over time, she stopped fighting it. She had always loved you and that never seemed to get in the way. Why should it now? firstlove!Ona was just pissed off that you have avoided her ever since that night in the car. She didn’t say anything other than you were cute for being jealous but the feeling of being caught was too much for you to confront; you hadn’t even fully accepted the fact that you were down bad for your best friend and she was already figuring out?!

Julia laughed as you told her the story about that night, clearly amused by your confusion. You hadn’t known who else to turn to; you figured your mutual friend of nearly a decade might have some valuable insight. She shook her head, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, we all saw this coming. Honestly, I’m surprised it took you two a decade to figure it out.” She shared. “I was going to push your heads together if it took any longer.” You groaned, frustration creeping into your voice. “What does that even mean? How could you know when I’m not even sure myself if I have a crush on Ona, or if it’s just some weird version of best friend clinginess?” Your friend raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the bed’s headboard. “Did you feel this way about me when I had to spend a semester in Granada with my grandmother?” She challenged your theory. “And were you suddenly jealous when I came back and started dating Carla?” You paused. “No…” “Then obviously, it isn’t just some sort of friendship clinginess.” Your friend explained it to you. “I’ve known you two since we were children and I genuinely think I learned the concept of crushes because of you and Ona.” “What do you mean?” You asked, falling backward on your bed and covering your head with a pillow. Julia’s voice softened, but there was a certain conviction in it. “Ona practically walked around with heart eyes for you. And you—well, you ignored every boy who liked you. You just wanted to be around Ona. All the time.” She smirked, though there was a hint of exasperation in her tone. She reached over to grab the pillow off your head to stare you down, making sure every point she said was heard. “I seriously reached a point where I was fed up with you two. It felt like I was third-wheeling 24/7.” You knit your eyebrows together as you listened to your friend. “But what do I do now? I obviously can’t go to my best friend and tell her I like her? I don’t even know that for sure.” ”Look,” Julia said, looking you straight in the eyes. “You have to realize that there has to be a reason that, after all these years, after all of the boys who courted you, you never seemed interested in any of them. You always just wanted to be around Ona. All the time” You fell quiet, thinking it over. Everything she was saying was true. You never had a crush in your life. You never showed interest in anyone. Whenever someone asked where you’d see yourself years from now, you often would mention still being best friends with Ona. It had to mean something. Julia squeezed your hands gently, her voice earnest. “There’s a reason for that, you know?” You stayed silent for a while before sighing. “But… what if I’m wrong? What if I tell her I like her, and it turns out it’s just some kind of puppy love? What if I lead her on?” Julia sighed, the sound filled with both frustration and understanding. She took your hands in hers, her grip firm. “It would break Ona’s heart, yeah. But honestly…” She paused, looking you dead in the eye. “I think Ona’s always been preparing for that possibility. She knows what’s at stake, and she’d rather give it a chance than keep guessing. I’m sure she doesn’t want to spend another 17 years second-guessing herself.” Your heart ached at the thought of breaking Ona’s heart, but Julia’s words carried a certain truth that you couldn’t ignore. Judging by Julia’s statements, Ona had more to lose in this; you could easily break her heart. But that didn’t mean it was exactly riskless for you. Julia’s gaze softened. “You owe it to both of you to take the chance. You need to allow Ona to love you without that barrier of friendship between you two. If it doesn’t work out, at least you tried, right?” You nodded, making it a silent promise to yourself that you would take your emotions seriously and that you would be honest with Ona once you got the chance. You looked up at your friend. “Julia, promise not to tell her... while I'm not ready yet, at least?" "Ugh, fine but if you two get married, I get to tell everyone how dumb you two were," Julia said with an eye roll.

firstlove!Ona was clueless about your emotions, second-guessing herself after the whole interaction. Did she make a mistake in thinking you were interested in her? Did she completely fumble the bag? She had no clue how to go about it until she realized she could bait you into revealing yourself. firstlove!Ona started sharing more and more photos of her and Aitana, trying to see how you would react. She would post photos of them in training, eating ice cream after school, hugging each other after a game. She’d try so hard to get a reaction but you never seemed to mind. In fact, it felt like you were back to your clueless self, oblivious to what she was trying to do. It was obvious to everyone just what Ona was trying to do, even Aitana called her out on it, saying she was done with being used as bait for her crush. It probably would have worked for someone who wasn’t you. firstlove!Ona didn’t know that it was working but not in the way she wanted to. You did get jealous but instead of thinking that Ona was trying to make you jealous, you thought that she was moving on. You thought she had finally found someone who liked her and wasn’t afraid to admit it just at the very moment that you were gearing up to confess. You started avoiding her, restricting her from all your social media just so that you would see less of her with her new crush. You decided that you would only reach out once you’re ready to talk it out with her. But for now, you had to shut her out. firstlove!Ona got an angry call from Julia as soon as she woke up, one random day.

“Are you and Y/N seriously still not talking?” Julia’s voice blared through the phone, loud enough to make Ona wince. Ona blinked away the sleepiness, squinting at the clock beside her bed. “Julia, it’s three in the morning,” she groaned, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow. “I’ve got training in two hours. Couldn’t this have waited?” Julia groaned back. “Do you even remember what day it is today?” Ona blinked, trying to shake off the fog in her mind. “Uh… Tuesday?” ”ONA BATLLE, IT’S YOUR FRIENDSHIP ANNIVERSARY.” The frustrated girl shouted over the phone, causing Ona’s phone speaker to crackle at the volume. “And you two haven’t said a word to each other in A MONTH!” Ona winced, groaning into the phone. “Great. Thanks for the reminder.” She let out a long sigh, dragging herself upright. “But, how is it exactly my fault? She’s the one who has been dodging my calls? Why should I try to make the first move in greeting her when she hasn’t even reached out to me at all?” Ona rubbed her forehead in frustration, trying to calm herself down. Once she spoke again, her voice was quieter, more defeated. “I’ve tried, Julia. I’ve been trying for years. But… I’m tired now.” “I’m just… trying to adjust with being okay with being just friends again.” Ona continued silently. “I can’t chase after nothing forever, Julia. I don’t have it in me anymore. It’s been ten years. I can’t keep chasing after her anymore. At some point, I have to stop.” Another long pause. Ona thought maybe Julia had hung up, but then, her friend spoke again—quiet, almost reluctant. “I promised not to say anything but obviously, I was stupid for promising that.” Julia muttered, the words heavy with something Ona couldn’t quite place. “But… it’s not nothing, Ona.” Ona furrowed her brows, feeling a pang of confusion. “What are you talking about?” Julia groaned, exasperated. “Ugh, I’m done dealing with both of your oblivious and mopey asses. I’ve done my part and it’s too much already. You two figure it out yourselves.” Before Ona could respond, the line went dead. Julia had hung up.

firstlove!Ona couldn’t get Julia’s words out of her head. It’s not nothing. She had no fucking clue what Julia meant exactly but there was a part of her that couldn’t help but wonder if that meant that you… No, we’re not going through another round of what-ifs, Ona. She said to herself. Focus on training now and berate Julia to be more clear later.

firstlove!Ona couldn’t keep herself focused no matter what. In the morning, she practically missed every instruction her coach said. In class, she spaced out during Spanish lessons that she hadn’t noticed the teacher was already growing red in the face, trying to catch her attention, until Aitana basically kicked the back of her seat. It was so bad that her coach sent her home, refusing to include her in afternoon training until she sorted herself out.

firstlove!Ona headed home that day, feeling defeated. She thought about you the entire day but still couldn’t come to a conclusion as to what Julia meant, and what she wanted to do with your relationship now. Sure, what Julia said gave her hope but that quickly fizzled out every time she would check her phone and there was not a single notification from you. She obviously was misreading the situation yet again. Was this the end of the line for the two of you?

firstlove!Ona stormed into her house, practically stomping in frustration.

“Ona?” Her mother called from the living room as Ona slammed the door behind her. “Why are you home so early?” Ona sighed, already feeling the weight of the day pressing down on her. “Coach sent me home,” she muttered, not bothering with any excuses. “Didn’t do well in training. Couldn’t concentrate.” Her mom looked at her sympathetically. “Aw, my baby.” She started toward Ona, arms open for a hug, but Ona remained rooted to the spot. “Does this have anything to do with—” ”Let’s not talk about her right now, please.” She cut in, her voice low but firm. Her mom pouted, looking at her daughter with careful eyes.“You two are best friends. It’s really sad that you’re not talking anymore, especially when I practically raised her like my own.” She smiled wistfully. “I even know what kind of juice she likes and doesn’t like.” Ona winced at the memories. “I… I don’t wanna think about her for now.” She said with a strained voice. There was a long pause as her mom considered her words. Then, after a beat of awkward silence, she hesitated before speaking again. “Hmmm, well, then you might not want to go upstairs to your room.” Ona’s eyes widened. “Mom… what did you…” Her mother’s eyes softened, but there was a hint of guilt there. “If you don’t want to talk to her right now, I can just send her home, sweetheart.” She offered gently, but her voice carried a subtle note of apology. Ona groaned, rubbing her face with both hands. The last thing she wanted was to confront this right now, but she knew she couldn’t keep avoiding it. She needed to face the situation head-on. “No, it’s fine,” she said, her voice quieter now, resigned. “I’ll… talk to her.” Her mother nodded, her face filled with understanding. “You know I’m here if you need me.” She gave her daughter a soft smile before walking away. Ona stood there for a moment, collecting herself, steeling her nerves for what was coming. She wasn’t ready, but maybe she never would be. She still had to face the situation eventually. Might as well get it over and done with.

firstlove!Ona didn't know how to talk to you. She didn't know how to face you after you two haven't talked in a month, which was basically centuries in best friend time. She didn't know how you'd react to seeing her again. Were you pissed off? Sad? She sighed, knowing she wouldn't find out until she opened that door.

The door creaked open and you nearly jumped off of the edge of Ona's bed. You waited with bated breath for her to enter, feeling yourself grow anxious. You finally see her. You didn't know why but you expected her to look different even if it had only been just a month; she still looked like the same Ona you knew, except maybe a bit tanner. You cleared your throat, feeling uneasy as she entered, closing the door behind her. "Hey…" You said with a soft voice. Ona leaned her back against the door, crossing her arms across her chest. "Hey." She responded with a cold voice, avoiding eye contact. You bit your lip, hesitant about what to say. "I haven't seen you in a while…" You started. "Julia told me you were doing even more training since you're gearing up for some big game." Ona just nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor. Again, you two fell silent, filling the room with words left unsaid. "Ona…" You started again, choosing your words carefully. "I'm really sorry I haven't reached out in a month. I really should have said something instead of just disappearing on you." Still, she didn’t respond. You exhaled shakily and pressed on. “I just… I didn’t know what to do.” Ona’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, but her eyes remained distant. “That night we had dinner…” you hesitated. “Even before that, I’d already been feeling weird... no, not just weird... insecure.” Her gaze finally lifted, confusion evident. “Why?” You rubbed your arm nervously, your words faltering. “I felt like we were drifting apart. You were spending so much time away from me, and then… then you were giving girls your number.” You paused, your throat tightening suddenly. “I know it sounds stupid, but I felt upset. I thought maybe you were going to forget about me when you got famous or that we wouldn't be friends anymore.” Ona’s jaw tightened, and she muttered under her breath, “Bullshit.” “What?” you asked, blinking in surprise. “You can’t even tell me what you’re really feeling,” Ona said, shaking her head. “Besides, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal that I gave someone my number. You told me to do it. And then, when I realized and pointed out that you weren't being genuine about wanting me to give my number, somehow I became the bad guy.” You sighed, feeling the guilt twist in your chest. “I wasn’t upset with you.” “Then why?” She looked at you with an almost pleading look. “I was upset with myself,” you admitted. The words felt heavy. “I hated how I reacted, how I got upset that you had realized what I was feeling... and I hated that I didn’t understand why I did react like that.” Ona tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And why did you?” You hesitated, biting your lip. Then, softly, you confessed, “I was jealous. I didn’t even know why at first… I just was.” Her expression shifted, cautious but curious. “And it wasn’t just that,” you continued. “I felt the same way whenever you talked about Aitana. I know how ridiculous it sounds, but I couldn’t help it." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "When you started posting all those pictures of you two, I felt like I was being replaced. And instead of talking to you, I just… shut down.” Ona sighed, her voice quieter now. “Look, about Aitana—” You cut her off, shaking your head. “No, I got it. Instantly got it." You said. "And, I saw you two playing online last week. She’s amazing. I’m happy for you both." Ona laughed dryly, catching you off guard. “I’m not dating Aitana.” “What?” you asked, completely thrown. She shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her arm. “I only posted those pictures to get your attention. To make you jealous.” Your brows furrowed in disbelief. “Why would you want to make me jealous?” Ona scoffed, her lips curling into a small, bitter smile. There was a moment of silence before she looked at you again, locking eyes. “I think you know why.” Her voice came out low and quiet as if she didn't want you to hear.

Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken feelings. “I mean,” you stammered, trying to piece your thoughts together. You were just stumbling with your words. “If you had started dating, I would’ve congratulated you. Aitana seems like a great person, and you two would—” “Are you trying to push me toward someone else again?” Ona interrupted, shaking her head as she looked down with a dry laugh. You raised your hands defensively. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just… I’m still figuring all of this out.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’ve thought about us a lot over the past month—how I feel about you, about us.” Her eyes softened, but her guard didn’t drop. “Then, why didn’t you answer any of my calls?” “Because I was scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Her stare was making you nervous. “I thought if I talked to you, I’d lose focus. I wouldn’t be able to sort out my feelings and I'd just fuck up. But I'm glad I took my time...” “And what now?” Ona asked, her voice cautious. “I realized that I like you,” you said, the weight of the confession lifting slightly from your chest. "I like you beyond just as friends." Ona’s eyes widened, but she stayed silent, waiting for you to continue. You took a deep breath, letting the words spill out. “I feel so stupid for not realizing sooner. You’ve been so obvious about it, but I was clueless. And worse, I didn’t even know my own feelings.” You laughed bitterly. “I’ve always liked you, Ona. But I never thought of it as a crush because… well, we’ve always been so close. It felt like we were already together. I never thought I’d have to say it out loud.” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before continuing. "And, I was scared that if I had said something, it would do more bad than good." You confessed, being completely vulnerable. "We already were there for each other all these years. I was scared that if I had said anything before, it would drive you away and I would lose you. And I didn't want to lose you." Ona stepped closer, her expression unreadable. “And now? What are you trying to say?” Your lips trembled as you laughed nervously, tears stinging your eyes. “I’m asking if you still want to be my best friend, even after everything I said." Ona’s face fell, disappointment flashing in her eyes. “Oh.” “But—” You reached for her hand with some hesitation. “I also want you to know that I think I might be in love with you." Her lips parted in surprise, her breath catching. Slowly, Ona stepped closer, her eyes searching yours. A smile grew on her face as she took your face in her hand. Without another word, she leaned in, her lips confidently capturing yours. It felt firm and sure as if answering you without using words. Just like that, your insecurities melted away. Suddenly, everything was back to before. No, it's even better than before. It was what you've always wanted, even back when you didn't know that you wanted it yet. When she pulled away, her lips curled into a small, teasing smile. She looked at both your eyes and you gazed into hers, taking in the moment between you. Ona chuckled. “Took you long enough.”

a/n: my first fluff fic <3 please be nice. i appreciate reblogs, comments, likes and messages or requests! i'm open to following this fic up if i get enough inspiration later on <3 taglist: @allaboutnayeli @shayepe @tsaynsp @acrypa24 @iliketozoneout @yapileon @kelseyaparker19 @wosocity @pitchsidestories @micaluvssoccer @lenorelovesgirls @marialife03 @jana22188

#Spotify #ona batlle fanfics #ona batlle fics #ona batlle fanfic #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle fluff #ona batlle x y/n

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heytherecentaurs · 1 year ago

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Burrow's End is an absolute masterpiece.

In the span of ten episodes Aabria and Co. weave an exciting and emotional adventure story about a family of sentient stoats. It delivers huge laughs, interesting societal criticism, remarkably emotional and well-acted scenes and concludes with a series of epilogue scenes that feel appropriate for each character, some heartfelt and subdued and others bigger than life and all the funnier for it.

Siobhan and Izzy play the perfect pair of siblings. They fight and argue but they also love each other. Jaysohn (Siobhan) looks up to Lila (Izzy) and believes she's the smartest stoat in the world (and by the end she probably is) and Lila hypes up her little brother's athletic skills. They both fully embodied these kids and I could watch them do fun stuff for more episodes. Give me a version of Saved by the Bell with them. Stoat by the Bell.

Brennan and Rashawn, playing sisters, also knock it outta the park, showing a more mature sibling dynamic. Brennan portrays Tula as the quintessential overtired single mother of excitable kids, and Rashawn as younger sister Viola straddles a very interesting line of being intimidating to outsiders but very much more naive and looking to her older sister when she starts a family.

Jasper as Thorn, a guy everyone just lets be a cult leader because he really wanted to, is fantastic. His is a difficult role as the only non-blood relative. Jasper plays Thorn with such real humanity of a guy in over his head and letting his ambition wife call the shots, but also one who agrees with her goal, really loves her and has moments of real menace. He has some very funny scenes, his big speech is perfect, and I just enjoy him.

Erika is wonderful. They play the epitome of generational trauma as many have said but as much trauma as Ava has, she is also loving and willing to learn. The fact Erika took this adversarial role is incredible. The tense dramatic scene primarily between Ava, Tula and Viola is amazing. They act their asses off and make hard choices that I imagine are difficult even for such an experienced player.

Aabria's DMing always feels fun. She doesn't get bogged down in the rules. She knows them. She plays by them. But as a master, she knows how and when to break them too. Her seasons on Dimension 20 have all had a tenseness, a particular edge to them that can give me anxiety during dramatic scenes between two characters. It always feel like one of her NPCs may say something devastating and the tension between characters reaches really thrilling heights. This is present in other seasons, but I don't think anyone does it as well as she does. The first season of hers to have battle maps, Aabria really swung for the fences and gave us some of the wildest maps to date.

Shout out to Carlos Luna's voice acting. He did an incredible job. And shout out to the whole crew who have put together one of the best seasons of D20. They keep finding ways to build on what's come before and they should be commended for it.

Dimension 20 is most successful when the concept is very streamlined. They don't do huge 100 episode campaigns capable of handling huge winding complex narrative, but short focused D&D stories, which is why many of the Side Quests have been so fantastic. They embody this philosophy most clearly, but it's apparent in the most beloved Intrepid Heroes seasons as well—John Hughes/High Fantasy, Game of Thrones/Candyland, Retrofuturism, Film Noir but in a Brain... Burrow's End fits this perfectly. It's streamlined concept paired with great storytellers and great chemistry sets it up to be a smash hit before it begins. And goddamn does it deliver.

Thanks Stupendous Stoats!

#dimension 20 #d20 #burrow's end #aabria iyengar #brennan lee mulligan #izzy roland #isabella roland #erika ishii #siobhan thompson #jasper william cartwright #rashawn scott #rashawn nadine scott #carlos luna #dropout.tv #hey there centaurs

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jams-sims · 14 days ago

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I am home now, I can finally decompress and talk about tonight's episode. I'm going to start with Sam because, she's my girl and then next I'll do Jammer. And yes I'm going to talk about Sam x Evan, if you don't like that I can't help you.

This is the first time, in a hot minute, we've addressed Sam's identity issue. Her lack of real connections outside of her friend base. There's something about that that is worrisome. Everyone has their connections now K has the wolf, Jammer has the fire salamander, Evan has the Bear. We could assume that Sam's is going to be the bat or maybe the goat. What worries me, is that the implications of the next episode, from the misleading trailer at the end. Shows that its going to be about the sea creature and trying to ecaspe that. I have this feeling that something bad's going to happen involving Sam. I could be picking up on nothing but the Vibes Feel off. I feel like that phone scene was just a step.

I feel like we're going to have more scenes, of this lack of connection happening. We have 3 eps left, that just enough time for something to go horribly wrong. Especially with Sam being the heart of the group.

The reason why it weighing on me is because- Sam needed someone outside the group to check on her a few eps back. It was right after Evan killed B. I feel like her friendships are going to come into questions because- How much of her friendship does she believe they love her for her. Evan and her have been having a lot of hearts to hearts. An just like how evan broken down an express those complicated emotions when Jammer got his magical connections.

I can see Sam having a moment where this darkness in her heart. This lack of community comes and tries to swallow her and her connections.

Now onto SamEvan or EvanSam- listen idc if it meant to be friend coded or not. If Sam and Evan do kiss im breaking into the drop off studio dome and stealing tabby. The tension between them is insane!!

It feels like Evan is one minute, alway from decalring his fucking knight like devotion to Sam. EVERYTIME they have a heart to heart, Evan gives off the vibe that he wants to say 'I would kill so many people for you.'

I DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS!!! ITS LIKE CRACK!!! PUMPED DIRECTLY INTO MY VIENS!! I dont even know how a relationship between Sam and Evan would work!? Sam and Evan have the most shittist relationship tracklist. It feels like they could either be the 'we dated for like a week but it fwkt better as friends' type or the 'we've been so casual about our relationship, moved in together and live this very domesticated life even though we arent actually married.'

It also doesnt help Aabira and Erika are bother just as bad as me, their facial jounery gets me acting crazy!!

I just want Sam to get everything, she needs and wants.

#mismag #misfits and magic #dimension 20 #evansam #samevan #evsam

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bettyfrommars · 1 year ago

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I'm on Fire//biker!older!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//biker!Steve//90's au//Part 10

🚨18+Only, smut, oral (m receiving), talk of erection, size kink, swallowing, biker gang, biker!Eddie, biker!Steve, talk of drug use, threats, talk of violence, financial trouble, mention of jail, smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, trouble at home, co-parents!Stobin, suggested custody issues, angst, underlying fear of retaliation. Word count: 8.7k

This is mostly just a sweet lil chapter to heal some wounds, right before some old wounds start opening.

Series Masterlist

A/N: I tried to make this part completely void of angst, but alas, I did not succeed. I'm working on a summertime one shot idea for the boys to go to a bike rally with all of the shenanigans that could possibly ensue; it should be a wild one. Big love to my beta @michellecrusher for deciding that this chapter could use a touch of smut.

As always, I'm honored to be on this ride with you and look forward to any and all interactions. Comments, messages, reblogs; it all means so much to me and is what keeps this little world going ❤️‍🔥

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I'm on Fire Part 10: I got a bad desire

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Landing with your face on the puke-stained, beer dribbled carpet of the Velvet Hammer, dusted in a sprinkle of cigarette ash, was not how you wanted to start your evening. You hadn’t even realized you hit the ground until you heard Steve’s voice demanding everyone get the fuck out of his way as he parted bodies to get to you.

And then, Erika’s voice: “I don’t know what happened...she just...fell. I promise, I didn’t touch her!”

People were murmuring around you and Steve was saying your name as you started to come back to reality, taking a deep inhale, blinking back to life. He knelt and propped you up into a sitting position, and that was when the embarrassment of what had just happened began to wash over you, making you wish that a hole in the ground would swallow you up.

“Do you think you can stand?” Steve asked while his big hands found positions under your arms in preparation to lift you up. You turned your head to look at him; his wayfarer sunglasses had fallen from the top of his head to the tip of his nose, and they were about to slip off, but his concern was more with not letting you go.

“What happened?” He asked as he pulled you to your feet, taking a second to grab the sunglasses off his face and throw them on the bar. “Did someone push you?”

“Please. Get me out of here,” you begged as one of your arms went around his shoulders, and one of his hands secured itself at your waist.

He set you down on a chair in front of the employee lockers and told you he’d get someone to cover the door for him while he took you home, or he’d see if one of the girls could stop by.

With your hands between your knees and your shoulders slumped, you began to come to terms with everything as he picked up the phone in the office.

“Wait,” you stopped him. “I can’t afford to miss a day of work, Steve, I’ll be fine. Just...just give me a second to catch my breath.”

Steve understood what a hard spot that was to be in; he lived it almost every day of his life. He put the receiver back down on the cradle.

“What did that bitch say to you?” Steve asked, putting his foot up on the bench.

You shook your head. “That’s just it, she’s not a bitch,” you chewed your lip. “She just saved me from making a huge mistake. I owe her.”

Steve was on his way back out to the floor when you called to him. “Hey, does Eddie have any female friends who are redheads, that you know of? Really pretty, tattoo on her bicep? Someone he’d feel comfortable enough with to let stay at his place?”

Steve popped his knee out and put his hands on his hips, frowning. “No one that he’s...dated, I don’t think,” he rubbed his chin in thought. “But there’s Max, she’s more like a sister to us. I just tattooed her a few weeks ago. Her hair was like a bright, candy red. Why do you ask?”

You turned away from Steve and squeezed your eyes shut, a sob caught in your throat. The sudden rush of relief at so many groundbreaking realizations had your emotions on the verge of short-circuiting. Eddie still had quite a bit of explaining to do, but the tight bud of your heart was blooming like a rose in your chest once again, full of hope.

----------

Meanwhile, Eddie was officially going stir crazy. “I need to get out of this house,” he told Robin has he hitched through the kitchen, careful not to put too much weight on the hip was right below his wound. He was wearing his jeans unbuttoned, so they hung a bit low, bangs swept across his forehead, and one of Steve’s white wife beaters that was too small for him. The thin material exposed the tattoos on his chest and stomach, as well as the ones scattered from neck to hands. He’d spent the afternoon watching cartoons with Oliver, which was enjoyable, but relaxing and sitting still for long periods of time just wasn’t in his DNA.

Also, he wasn’t sure if it was an affect of the morphine, but he’d had another one of his nightmares early that morning, before dawn, and shouted himself awake, covered in sweat. It was the same dream that had tortured him off and on for over a decade; the one where he’s being attacked by a swarm of flesh-eating bat creatures, they’re all taking big bite out of his flesh, and he wakes up to the feeling of choking on his own blood.

“Over my dead body,” Robin challenged, moving from the stove with a wooden spoon covered in macaroni and cheese in her hand.

Eddie’s eyes traveled to the spoon and then back to her face. “That can be arranged.”

“Seriously, dude,” her shoulders sank. “Don’t make me hog tie you to the couch. I promised Astrid we’d keep an eye on you for another night.”

“I have a business to run, Rob,” he said as he hobbled over to grab his leather from the back of the one of the dining chairs. “If this were a hospital, they would’ve kicked me to the curb by now.”

Robin went back to the stove to stir the powdered cheese in with the noodles. She knew that no one could stop him if he wanted to go, and she really couldn’t blame him.

With her back to him she said, “if you end up getting some type of infection and your foot falls off, I won’t ever forgive you.”

Oliver came trotting out from the other room to say goodbye, and he raised his arms for Eddie to pick him up, which he did—and Robin glanced over just in time to see the grimace of pain flash across Eddie’s face as he settled the boy on the wrong hip at first before switching him to the other side. She shook her head, certain he would pop his stitches by the end of the day.

“Steve brought your bike up the hill,” she let him know, while she packed up some medications for him to take. “Your girlfriend is at work by now, I believe.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped to hers as he put Oliver down. “Why’d you call her that?”

“Isn’t she?” Robin challenged, raising her eyebrow. “I can tell you knew exactly who I was talking about.”

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that twitched across his lips.

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The Velvet Hammer was packed that night, and by the end of your shift, after very little food, no sleep, and one blackout, you were a bit wobbly on your feet. Steve had to work as security for a while longer, since there was a bachelor party in attendance that was getting a bit rowdy, but he demanded you let him walk you to your car while he had a smoke.

“So, I like Astrid,” you told him. He held out his cigarette to offer you a drag, but you declined with a wave of your hand. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Going on?” Steve put the cig to his lips with thumb and forefinger.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you made room for a group of people to pass on the sidewalk. “You know what I mean,” you insisted, knowing full well that he did. “You two seemed really close last night. I was just curious.”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ in love with her,” Steve announced with a shrug, as if it were common knowledge. “We just don’t have a conventional relationship, I guess. No one seems to understand it but us.”

You wondered, sincerely, how many women Steve had been in love with in his life. But, you could tell that there was, indeed, something special about the connection he had with Astrid. You wondered if Eddie looked at you the way Steve had looked at her last night.

Steve hung around to make sure you got in your car okay, and then you chuckled to yourself as he sauntered off, flirting with a group of women who were walking by, asking them to come by the bar and keep him company. You were about to maneuver your way out of the precarious parallel spot you were wedged in when your eyes locked on a piece of folded paper held to the windshield under one of the wipers.

At first, you thought it was ticket of some sort, like maybe you were in a no parking zone or something. But then, at closer examination, you realized it was made with blue-lined notebook paper.

It was a handwritten note.

The street was fairly busy that night with cars zooming around town, so you were cautious as you dashed out to pinch it free and pull it back into the safety of the car with you.

It was a...little paper origami duck? Or some kind of bird? You turned it around, inspecting the intricately folded parts, giggling curiously as you did so. You unfastened the delicate edges, careful not to rip it in haste. Finally, you were able to press a flat, albeit crumpled, half sheet of paper against your steering wheel, your heart shot into your throat, melting there like a fat stick of butter.

It was from Eddie:

I miss you. Come to my place so we can talk? It doesn’t matter how late.

-- E

P.S. Oliver wants to make this into a swan for you

Hopeful tears pooled at your lash line and you checked your watch; it was just after 11:30. Surely, they’d be keeping him at Steve’s for another night? But, if so, he would’ve said that and not, specifically “his place”. You tried to fold it back exactly the way it was, failed miserably, and ended up folding it in half without messing up any of the edges to place it safely in your middle console.

For a few seconds as you sat in your car with the radio on, listening to Nearly Lost You by The Screaming Trees, you wondered if you should play hard to get, if maybe rushing over to his place was not the right game to play. But really, truly, you didn’t give a shit about any of that.

You were blinking excessively and yawning, and you had this feeling like, if you rested your head back against the seat, you’d fall asleep right there in your car. But, you took a few deep breaths and patted your cheeks. You brought a can of Coke in your bag from the bar and cracked it open to guzzle some of it, thinking maybe you’d need to go home first and change? Or go straight to Eddie’s? Fall asleep in your car was still an option.

Fuck.

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Earlier that day, around 5 o’clock, Eddie hissed as he dismounted his bike at the garage, clutching his side, trying to mask the spasm of pain, only to see Wayne watching him from the main garage. His uncle nodded in greeting, just wanting to make sure Eddie was okay, as he wiped his hands, and then turned around to finish what he was working on. So much of the communication they shared was silent, but understood.

He had the note in his pocket that Oliver had made into an origami animal, and he wanted to tidy up his place a bit before he did some work, just in case you did actually come over. If you didn’t, he wouldn’t blame you—it had been an especially long 24 hours. But, damn, he really needed to see you, to try and fix whatever had gone wrong, if he even could.

He still didn’t know what Charlene had done to upset you, but his mind reeled with the possibilities.

Eddie had ripped the bandage off his cheek on the way over, so there was just an angry gash there with a few stitches holding it together like a twist tie to a bunch of hammers, and he didn’t realize how much he resembled Frankenstein’s Monster until the new office assistance choked on her soda at the sight of him.

“Rough night?” She asked. Her name was Dana and she’d worked at garages before, but never for one that was affiliated with an MC.

“You could say that,” Eddie returned as he headed over to one of the metal filing cabinets to look for something.

Dana had a few “while you were out” slips of paper she had filled out with phone numbers and people who had wanted to speak with Eddie or Wayne, and she went over them with him while she chewed a red piece of gum.

She finished the last one and then, “oh, yeah, and someone called here looking for a…” she checked the piece of paper. “...Steve Harrington?”

Eddie nodded, taking something he needed out of the file before shutting the drawer. “He’s a buddy of mine. What’s the message?”

Dana scratched her head. “She didn’t say what it was about, just said that it was a personal matter,” she showed Eddie the pink piece of paper with a phone number and name on it. “Said her name was Christina? I don’t recognize the area code.”

“Could you look up Steve in the address book in that first drawer and relay the message for me? He’s in there under Dingus. I gotta run this out to the---”

Dana spelled out Dingus on the piece of paper, without questioning it, and then looked at the round clock on the wall, nervously. “Actually, I should’ve been gone a half hour ago. I need to pick up my daughter from--”

Eddie waved the papers in his hand. “Of course, I’m sorry I’ve been...distracted. Do me a favor and call him when you get in on Monday? I’m sure it can wait till then.”

The name Christina did not ring a bell at the time, but later on, he’d wish that it had.

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You decided to go home first to freshen up a bit, but also, you wanted to pick up the photos to show Eddie. Katie was asleep, but you made yourself some coffee and tiptoed around, wishing you had time to shower because you reeked of secondhand smoke, but then realized Eddie probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

You were nervous as you pulled into the gates of the compound; your heart was racing and your palms started to sweat. His black and chrome bike with the menacing, purple flock of bats on the tank was parked right up close to his door, and you angled your car right in next to it.

Once you turned your car off, you could hear the faint sound of music drifting down from the open window in his apartment. The song was Love You to Death by Type O Negative, and you glanced up just in time to see his shadow pull from the window, as if he’d been standing there, watching you drive up.

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Up in his apartment, Eddie cracked his knuckles, ignoring the fact that the skin on them was still raw and one of his fingers was probably sprained because it throbbed like a motherfucker. He wanted to make sure everything looked okay before he ran down to meet you at the front door. The TV was on mute, he’d been watching Unsolved Mysteries, but now an episode of the X-Files was starting. There were clean sheets on the bed—just in case---and he’d been on his hands and knees cleaning the bathroom for a good half hour. There was a vanilla candle burning on the nightstand, and he had lit some Nag Champa incense earlier to try and mask the fact that he’d just smoked a couple cigarettes to calm his nerves. He turned the music down a tad and wondered if Type O was too on-the-nose for such an evening, like maybe you’d think he was setting some tawdry scene, when in actuality, he listened to their music all the damn time. He had on the only pair of dark denim Levi’s he owned without holes in them, a black Faith No More shirt that had the neck and sleeves ripped off of it, and his black converse, which were a nice change from the heavy boots he always wore. He slipped his rings on and used his pinky to clean some sleep out of his eyes just before he headed down to greet you.

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You were just about to knock, knuckle poised in the air, when the door flew open.

“Hey,” Eddie stood there looking flushed, lips parted, dragging one hand down his stomach as his pupils dilated to take you in.

You gulped. “Hey. Is this too late? I wasn’t sure if you really meant---”

“Oh I really want you here,” Eddie stepped back, holding the door open with his body.

You were just going to walk through without making any physical contact, but then you found your body being sucked against his, as if by some gravitational pull, and you both sunk into each other. He was quick to put his arms around you, hugging you tighter, securing you to him as if your body was oxygen.

“I know we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he planted his lips on the top of your head, only removing them to speak. “I want to make it right, baby. I don’t ever want to hurt you, and I would never let anyone hurt---”

“I believe you,” you answered, moving further inside, wanting to get behind closed doors with him.

There were old, squeaky wood stairs that led up to the narrow hallway, and you held onto one of his belt loops as you followed him up, pausing so he could open the door and extend his arm for you to enter.

“So, this is where the magic happens,” you teased, taking in the open space that was bedroom, living room, and kitchen all in one. There were Iron Maiden and Slayer posters on the wall, a Harley Davidson plaque, as well as your painting, which was the first thing anyone saw when they walked in. Directly to your right was a hallway that looked like closet space and a door to a bathroom. It was a spacious, warehouse style loft with wood floors and a few round, woven rugs.

The windows...the windows were huge.

Eddie snorted at your comment, and was just about to turn around to take you into his arms again, when you bolted over to start busying yourself with lowering the curtains, starting with the window that faced the other side of the street.

“You really should keep these closed,” you told him, leaning over a table with a turntable and an 80’s style boombox. The pull did not work for the second curtain, and your frustration was mounting as you yanked at it, just as Eddie stepped over and put his hand on the cord.

“Let me do it, baby,” he met your eyes, trying to see if he could guess what had triggered such a frenzy.

While he finished dropping the blinds, you took the photos out of your bag, extending them when he turned around. You sat down at the end of the bed and watched his face as he slipped the contents out of the manila envelope to look at them.

He glanced at you a few times as he flipped through the photos, and his expression ebbed from confusion to anger and back again.

Eddie was shaking his head, hair hanging down, his strong fingers curling as if he wanted to crumple them up. “These aren’t...this is not what it looks like,” his eyes searched yours.

“I know,” you looked down, biting your top lip with your bottom teeth. “Erica told me you were set up. And Steve told me about...your other friend.”

The muscles in Eddie’s jaw tensed, teeth grinding, as his eyes narrowed on the window where most of the photos had been taken from. “Some fucker has been watching me this whole time?” The irrational part of Eddie wondered if the guy was over there, somewhere in the abandoned building, right at that moment. Maybe he should go over and introduce himself, possibly break the guys face with his own camera. Break his hands and throw him out the third story window while he was at it.

The photos were starting to make Eddie feel sick with rage, so he put them back in the envelope. Your bloodshot eyes fluttered and he could see how tired you were.

“Who would do this?” You asked, earnestly. “More importantly, why would they do it? I haven’t been here long enough to make enemies. Not of this caliber, anyway.”

Eddie put the envelope on top of the kitchen counter and sat down next to you on the bed with a heavy sigh. He had his hands resting on his knees, but then he took a chance and slid one arm over to interlace his fingers with yours, and you let him. He squeezed your hand. “It’s a long story, but a while back I made a mistake and got involved with this woman who--”

“Charlene Gregson?” She’d always been at the top of your list for someone who would have the motive for something so unnecessarily heinous.

“That’s the one,” he brought your hand over across his leg. “That’s where I went last night, to try and stop her, I suppose. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

That made a laugh bubble out of your chest for some reason. “What was your plan? Crash through her gates on your motorcycle on a cloud of smoke and seek vengeance?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, it always works out in the movies.”

You giggled and pulled away, but then he tugged you back, and you were still smiling as he scooped his hand around your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss, little hiccups of laughter erupting between kisses tongues slipping in ever so gently; Mulder and Scully having a conversation on the TV in the background. You held onto his wrist, sinking deeper into the yearning that you always felt for him, pulling back only to rub the tips of your noses together, lips grazing.

“Stay here with me tonight?” Eddie whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want to hold you.”

You were sure, you were almost positive, that you had just fallen asleep for a second while he was talking, and you blinked hard just as he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“But I stink, I smell like the Velvet Hammer. I didn’t have a chance to shower,” you mewed, feeling your body slump further into hibernation mode as the adrenaline from the past two days wore off.

“You don’t stink,” Eddie assured you. “You can sleep in one of my shirts, and you can use my toothbrush, if you don’t mind my germs.” He had your hand in his and was holding it to his chest as he watched your face.

“I figured you’d have plenty of extra toothbrushes here for all of the copious amounts of women who sleep over,” your exhaustion was making you feisty.

Eddie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I do have a few extras for emergencies. But I’ve never offered up my own personal toothbrush before.”

“Goodbye,” you chirped, standing up, ready to leave.

But Eddie chuckled and caught you around the waist, throwing you down on the bed next to him with a bounce and a grunt.

You were doing a poor job of stiffing your own laughter as you tried to keep a serious face, but then he moved to crawl on top of you and you watched his face seize in pain. He stiffened and put his hand over the area where his knife wound was, easing himself onto his back. While Eddie silently prayed that he hadn’t ripped his stitches, you went around the side of the bed to click the lamp off. You turned the TV off too; the music was on low, but that you didn’t mind.

“We are quite a pair tonight,” Eddie mumbled from the bed, slightly incapacitated, as he watched you moved around his apartment.

You loved the idea of sleeping in one of his shirts and hygiene and all that jazz, but in that moment—you weren’t sure you could last another second. Your lids were heavy and your conversation skills were at an all time low. With rubbery limbs, you climbed on the dark blue comforter of his bed and curled against him, making sure it was the side he hadn’t been stabbed on. Flat on his back, Eddie’s eyes never left you, and he was ready with his arm high and outstretched for your head to make a pillow out of his shoulder.

“I can’t keep my eyes open for another second,” you yawned. You grabbed his chest to pull yourself closer, like he was a pillow, and he kissed your forehead.

You kissed the gash on his cheek, nuzzling the hair just above his ear, planting more kisses as you went. Eddie felt his cock spring to life in his jeans and he was too exhausted to do anything about it. You cupped your hand on the side of his neck, kissed the corner of his mouth, and then finally let your cheek fall to his shoulder with a flop.

Eddie took hold of your leg at the crook of your knee to pull it across his hips, needing to feel your weight, not wanting to let you get away. He closed his eyes, drowning in the feel of your soft puffs of breath on his neck, your chest moving up and down on his arm. He planted his lips to your head again, giving a few audible smooches before he rested his torn cheek lightly against you.

He wrapped his arm around tighter, bringing you closer. “You know, Robin called you my girlfriend today,” he admitted, a low laugh rumbling from his chest.

The only response you could manage was, “mmmpfm?”

The stubble of his jaw grazed your forehead as he contemplated what he was about to say. He’d just been stabbed, and it made him consider his mortality, and the time he had left.

“I was thinking,” he breathed. “If you like the sound of that, maybe we could, make it official? That is, if you could ever see yourself having a dirtbag like me as a boyfriend.”

Your body had gone limp and, in the following seconds while he waited for a response, he heard a soft whistle in your nose and a snore catch in the back of your throat. A few drops of drool started pooling from the side of your mouth and made a wet spot on his shirt.

Eddie chuckled, peeking down at you, but trying not to move too much, not realizing he was about to drift off to sleep as well.

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You weren’t sure what time it was when your head rolled off of Eddie’s shoulder, jerking you awake, but it was dark outside, and you were still in the same position you were when you passed out: hand loosely cupping his neck, and your leg stretched across his hips. His head had rolled to the side, away from you, full lips parted, and the blue glow from the stereo cast a moody light on his skin, making his cheek wound look like something out of science fiction.

Still half asleep, you kissed the exposed muscles of his throat, right at the spot where the dark lines from his back tattoo came up across his neck, and your hand slid down his chest; you didn’t have a plan, you just wanted to feel him. His breathing was steady and shallow, eyeballs dancing under his lids. Your hand met with the top of his jeans, and then your eyes widened at the bulge that was causing a huge gap from skin to denim.

You slid your leg off of him, letting your hand move down a bit further, and your hand had to widen over his clothing to pass over the expanse of his arousal there.

Without even realizing it, you had started thrusting your hips against him, working your core against his hip, and then you lifted up to kiss his chin, aching to find his mouth with yours. You’d gone over to his place with every intention of being intimate with him, and nature had intervened with other plans, but you still wanted him to know how bad you wanted him, how much you craved him every second of the day.

Eddie groaned awake to return your kiss, and one of his hands grabbed your face. “Who is this greedy girl?” He mumbled against your mouth, his eyes droopy.

You straddled him, keeping your knees low, at his thighs, careful not to hit his wound. You started to move your core up and down along the bulge under his jeans, and then you leaned forward to brush your lips against his as you spoke. “You’re so hard, let me take care of it.”

Eddie whimpered a little in the back of his throat. “You can take whatever you want, baby,” and then a visible shiver ran through his body at the mere thought of your mouth on his cock.

You inched your way down, sucking hickeys into the dark tattoos spread across his stomach and chest, avoiding the medical tape from his bandage. Eddie moaned and threw his head back as you licked along the inside of his hip, unzipping his jeans to pull them down.

No boxers underneath, his huge cock sprang free, and the sight of the pre-cum already dripping from the pink tip made your mouth water. Eddie bit his lip while he watched you from under hooded eyes as you took control, pulled his jeans down further, and straddled his leg.

You bent over, and kept eye contact with him as you licked all the way down the shaft, and then wet the tip with your mouth, flicking your tongue along the slit, cleaning up his primal release.

Eddie pupils were blown, his lips parted as he watched.

“Whose cock is this?” You asked, teasing the tip with your wet mouth, planting hungry kisses down his shaft.

Eddie choked a little in the back of his throat. “It’s—it’s yours baby.”

He was already rock hard—throbbing, even---and your core flowered open beneath your clothes, soaking your underwear to the point that you actually had to reach down and touch yourself as you sucked him. Eddie noticed this and it made him mumble, “fuckbabyfuck,” as his leg squirmed, digging his heel into the bed.

You worked the tip of his cock with your hand while you sucked one of his balls into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but smile a little at how crazy it was making him.

Somehow, between sleeping on someone else’s couch and working, Eddie had neglected to jerk off recently, and so he was about to….

“Fuck, baby, right there,” he hissed, bucking his hips. “You’re gonna make me…”

You went back to work, gripping him with hand and mouth in tandem, lips stretching to take all of him, eyes watering, swallowing his tip in the back of your throat every so often, as he watched you with a furrowed brow, cursing under his breath.

Suddenly, his breath started to hitch, and the fingers of one of his hands dug into the comforter. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby...if you want it...like that…”

He was warning you as if you’d pull your mouth off and jerk him the rest of the way, but you wanted all of it in your mouth. You moaned as you sucked at the tip, pulling the orgasm out of him, saliva dripping down his balls.

Eddie let out a whimper and his leg jerked just before he stilled, and you tasted the salty sweetness of his warm cum shoot into the back of your throat in bursts. You drank his spend like his dick was a straw, throat busy swallowing every drop, moaning as you did so. You milked the tip for all he could give you, and then you cleaned him up with your greedy tongue, planting kisses on his cock when he was done with his release.

Eddie stared at the ceiling, slightly shook. “How are you so good at that?”

You sighed a quick laugh, licking your lips, as you made your way to the bathroom to finally brush your teeth. When you came back out, he was already asleep.

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As your eyes opened and adjusted to a sliver of buttery light peeking in from the curtain, your mind put you in several places. First, you were in your childhood bedroom, feeling like you needed to get up and ready for school, and then you were in the more recent bed in the house you shared with Katie. But, then the Iron Maiden poster came into focus and you were slammed with the realization that you had passed out in Eddie’s bed and it was already morning. Your intention had been to take a nap for an hour or two, but now you were alert to the idea that Eddie might still be somewhere in the room.

You remembered falling asleep on Eddie’s shoulder, waking up hungry for his cock, but now you were facing in the other direction, there was a blanket over you, and someone had taken your shoes off. It was Sunday, so the garage was closed, but you could still hear voices down below and the sound of a car engine revving. You reached your hand behind you to pat the bed, but only found an empty space; either Eddie was in the bathroom or he had already gone downstairs to start his day. God, what time was it?

You rolled over to crawl across the bed to look at the digital alarm clock, inhaling the smell from Eddie’s pillow as you went, and choked a little when you saw it was almost 9:30.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, throwing the cover off of your body. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept in for that long. A fear that you’d be late for work gripped you, but then you were reminded that you were no longer the director of a gallery, and your new job didn’t start until cocktail hour.

You found your shoes tucked neatly against the sofa, and on the kitchen counter in front of the coffee pot was a note propped up like a little tent with your name on it.

I had to run a tow.

I hope you’re here when I get back.

Thank you for taking it like a good girl last night.

-- E

Eddie and his little notes. You grinned as you folded it up and put it in your pocket, because of course you’d be saving any note he ever left you till the end of time.

It was then that a heavy fist started pounding on the door down below. “Helloooo? Anyone? What the hell do I gotta do to get some service around here?”

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Even though the mechanics were all off that day, the towing business was a 24 hour thing. There was another Coffin King named Lou who was usually able to cover some nights and weekends, but when Eddie found himself stuck with a pickup at the worst possible time, he tried to focus on the money and be grateful for it.

He’d considered waking you up to see if you wanted to go with him, but you were sleeping so peacefully, he didn’t have the heart to disturb you. He woke up with his cock so achingly hard thinking about what you did to him in the middle of the night, that he had to jerk off as quietly as possible in the shower that morning. He was sure you’d heard the grunt he barked when he came, thinking about filling you up, listening to you tell him how deep you wanted all of him inside of you.

The last time he went this long without having intercourse with a girl that he had feelings for was maybe his freshman year in high school. The crazy thing was, he was enjoying the feeling of waiting and making it special; even though the holding out part was totally accidental, and he would’ve jumped at the chance to bury himself inside you that very first night you met.

But the way you took care of him last night, holy shit: he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t tell if he had really found the Holy Grail of women, or if his feelings for you had made it as intense as it was; possibly a bit of both. He was seized with memories of your mouth on him off and on while he was on the job, and he’d have to slyly adjust himself in his jeans. He couldn’t wait to get back to you.

He started to whistle as he rounded the corner to re-enter the compound, hoping that your car was still there, hoping that he could….

But he spotted a different car in the lot right next to yours that hadn’t been there before, and you were coming out from out of the garage with your hand shielding your eyes, looking deeply concerned.

------------

You considered just letting whoever it was keep on knocking, but at one point, the person yelled: “Eddie! I know you’re here! Don’t make me take your bike for a spin around the block!”

And so, you put your shoes on and went down, wholly unprepared for what you would find.

There were two smiling faces practically pressed up against the glass of the main door as you descended the stairs. One was a guy with a mop of brown curls, and the woman with him had beautiful olive skin, black hair, and wore glasses. They both waved enthusiastically, happy to finally be acknowledged.

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“What the hell, Henderson?” Eddie parked the tow truck and jumped down, wallet chain flapping against his jeans. Eddie waved to you across the way, as his mouth opened into a toothy grin, exposing actual cheek dimples, that you’d maybe only seen him wear once or twice.

“If it isn’t the Dungeon Master!” Dustin came toward him with his arms out. “What the hell is up with you and Steve? You’re the two hardest losers to find!”

They hugged, and then Eddie tousled Dustin’s hair, mussing it up. “You haven’t changed a bit, you little goblin.”

Next to you, under the shade of the awning was a very pregnant Suzie, who you’d also just met. She was in a purple floral dress with a white collar, and you’d pulled a chair around for her to have a seat.

“I love to see my Dusty Buns happy again,” she said, passing her hand over the globe of her belly as you both watched the two men embrace. “We should’ve moved back sooner, but life just got away from us.”

“How do you all know each other?” You were just barely able to introduce yourself before Eddie pulled up, and so you had no idea how close the gang was.

“I’m surprised the boys never mentioned Dustin to you? They went to high school together; they’re all really close. Steve is basically Dustin’s surrogate father,” she giggled, lifting her sweet moon-shaped face to you in a soft smile.

You did feel a little self-conscious about not knowing, but there was a good reason for it. “Well, I’m...Eddie and I are…kind of a new thing.” But then you remembered that you did know a little bit about one of their old friends. “They’ve mentioned Max to me. I guess she visited a couple days ago? I didn’t get to meet her though.”

“Maxine is a riot!” Suzie exclaimed. “You’ll get you meet her and Lucas when the baby is born. They said they wanted to be here for the actual birth, but who can really tell when that will be? I’m due in a week, but I was born two weeks early, and my sister’s newest baby was born almost a month late,” her eyes got glossy. “Boy, I really can’t imagine holding this baby in for another hour, let alone another month.”

Eddie had his arm around Dustin’s shoulders as they approached, and he gave him a playful knuckle rub to the head before they parted.

Eddie greeted Suzie, and she went to stand up to hug him, but Eddie quickly bent over and kissed her on the cheek so that she wouldn’t have to move. He swallowed as he took in the enormous state of her pregnant belly. “Shouldn’t you be...resting? Is it too hot out here? Should we go inside? Are you comfortable in that chair?”

Suzie laughed. “My god, Eddie, you’re as bad as Dustin. I’m fine, I promise. I’m trying to shake this baby loose; this little person has rented out my womb for long enough.”

Eddie met your eyes and kissed you on the lips before he put his arm around you and pulled you against him.

It was the wrong side, again, and he winced.

Dustin noticed the look of pain. “What the hell happened to you?”

“He got stabbed,” you volunteered with a sheepish look on your face, tilting your head to Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh, of course he did,” Dustin said, his mouth wide. “What else would Eddie or Steve be doing on the weekends besides mortal combat?”

Suzie looked concerned, but Eddie assured the group that he was fine. He looked you in the face as he said: “So, did you two get to meet my girl?”

Your cheeks got warm, and you ran your hand up and down his back.

“Only briefly, before you rudely interrupted,” Dustin let him know, moving behind Suzie’s chair to put his hands on her shoulders. Dustin had been worried for a while there that Eddie would never move on from his ex, and that he would always be in a dark head space in regards to romance, and so seeing him with you made his heart feel light.

“You see Steve yet?” Eddie asked. “He’ll be pissed you didn’t come to see him first.”

“Um, not like we didn’t tryyyy,” Dustin raised both eyebrows. “No one was at the house and the tattoo shop wasn’t open yet. I talked to him on the phone a few weeks ago, but we weren’t sure when we’d be in town.”

Eddie thought about that for a second. It was very odd for neither one of them to be home, especially on a Sunday morning. But, there was a chance Robin took Oliver to a shift at work with her and Steve had spent the night at Astrid’s, depending on how early Dustin had popped by.

“I’ll find him,” Eddie assured them both. “Are you staying at your moms house.”

“Hell no,” Dustin responded almost too quickly. “I mean, I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but she’s been driving us up the wall lately. We’re renting a house a few blocks away from her until everything is finalized at our new place.”

They all made a plan to meet up as soon as they could figure out where Steve and Robin were, and once they were gone, Eddie turned to you, cupping your neck to pull you against him.

“Is it okay that I introduced you as my girl?” He stroked his thumb across your chin as he asked it, chocolate eyes unsure if they should meet your gaze or watch your mouth.

You lifted up to brush your lips across his, tongue peeking out only slightly, making him groan a little. You searched his eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Is that what I am?”

Eddie put his hands on your lower back and brought his head back, wanting to see your whole face. “You tell me. I wanna hear it. Are you my girl?”

You were nodding yes before he even finished. “I’ve been your girl for a long time now, silly boy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie breathed in a chuckle, his cock growing as he met your sweet, eager mouth. He paused only to admit, “I’ve wanted you to be mine since that first day we met.”

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Of all the places Steve had hoped to wake up on Sunday morning, a jail cell was not one of them.

He made bail, and Robin was there to pick him up, giving him a dirty look as she did so. He had his sunglasses on, his Coffin Kings cut in his hand, and a cigarette bobbing between his lips as he got into the passenger seat and shut the door. The “seek and destroy” tat on the side of his neck displayed loud and proud.

“Nice shiner,” Robin said under her breath.

“Yeah, well, you should see the other guy,” Steve said, cupping his hands to light his smoke. His black eye was the only visible mark on him, but the dude he had a tussle with had gone to town on Steve’s ribs, and there would definitely be bruises there.

She made a face as she backed out of the parking spot. “You smell like vomit.”

He ignored her observation. “Where’s Ollie?”

“I dropped him at Astrid’s,” she said as she pulled her own sunglasses down from the top of her head to cover her eyes. “I didn’t want him to see this.”

“Why are you acting like this was all my fault?” Steve blanched, flicking ash out the window as they turned out of the courthouse, Somebody to Shove by Soul Asylum playing on the radio. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know, Steve, that’s the point,” she barked. Her frustration with him was also mixed with a generous amount of worry. “When are you going to grow up and start walking away from danger instead of headlong into it every chance you get?”

“Oh I get it,” Steve said sarcastically. “So, you don’t care that Tina is back in town, and this had everything to do with her?”

Robin hit the breaks and turned to him so fast, a chunk of her hair stuck to her bottom lip. “What do you mean Tina is back in town?”

“Now you care?” He tapped his knee as he took another drag.

Robin felt like she forgot how to breathe, so she pulled over to park haphazardly along the sidewalk at an angle.

She turned the car off but left the air on. “You know how I feel about Tina, but please tell me you didn’t hit her.”

“Oh, fucking of course not,” Steve balked, snapping his head to look at her. He gestured to his black eye with the two fingers holding his cigarette, “this was courtesy of her new fiance. I think they were both on crack. They were waiting for me when I left work last night. Now, all of a sudden, out of the goddamn blue, Tina wants to see Oliver.”

Robin was shaking her head, gripping the steering wheel. “No, no, absolutely not,” she said, definitively. “She disappeared when he was 3 months old. No. There’s no way. She’s a drug addict, she’s a narcissist, no. Not a chance in hell.”

“I know, Rob, believe me. It’s not going to happen, okay?” Steve assured her with a wave of his hand. “At least not until she cleans her life up.”

Christina, Oliver’s biological mother, didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body, and never wanted anything to do with her son, but the fear had always been in the back of his head that one day she’d pop up like a mean, STD rash.

Robin felt her eyes getting moist and she wiped at her cheeks angrily. “Where are her and her fleabag fiance now?”

“Oh I put that scumbag in the hospital so hard,” Steve threw the rest of his cigarette out the window and licked his lips. “He’s lucky I didn’t put him in a grave. I’m sure Tina’s already changed her mind, you know how fickle and selfish she is. They were most likely on a bender and thought they’d come through town and fuck with us. They’re probably on their way back to Memphis by now. I don’t want you to worry about it, okay?”

Robin swallowed a few times, trying to allow him to comfort her. She never expected or intended to fall into this roll and be a mother to Steve’s son. But, it happened. Oliver was their son now, and she loved him as much as if he had grown in her womb. And, she would fight to keep him safe with the same level of conviction.

Steve sniffed and adjusted himself in his seat. “Thank you for bailing me out, by the way.”

Robin snorted as she started the car. “Dingus, I could barely afford the gas to drive over here, and you think I had the cash to bail you out? Get real.”

Steve frowned. “Who was it, then? They said I made bail. Otherwise, I’d still be rotting in there.”

“I assumed it was Astrid? Or Eddie?”

Steve shook his head. “Eddie doesn’t know, and Astrid is in the same financial hole we are.”

Robin put the car in drive but kept the break on. “Well, who was it then?” She posed the question as both of them searched their collective data bank memories for a close friend nearby who had more than two pennies to rub together, or something valuable to use as collateral.

Hours later, they still couldn’t think of anyone.

----------

You left Eddie reluctantly so that he could go look for Steve, and you could take a long awaited shower and throw your nicotine-saturated clothes in the wash. The business card with John Gregson’s email, phone number, and private extension was on your dresser, and you stopped to pick it up as you walked across the room. You meant to bring up the situation to Eddie, but the timing was never right. Was John trying to mess with you in the same way his wife wanted to mess with Eddie? You didn’t get a bad feeling from him, but now, after everything with the photos and Charlene paying people off, you weren’t sure.

A voice inside whispered that John could be an ally if you impressed him, and he had the notion to take you under his wing. John was the one with all the power at the end of the day, and if Charlene could play with fire, well then, so could you.

You decided to give him a call first thing Monday, and hopefully make a consultation appointment with him to get a taste for what type of art piece would suit his tastes and needs. You wondered if it was for his office or home? If it was a piece for his personal space at home, would you bump into Charlene while you were there, commiserating with her husband? The idea of getting under Charlene’s skin and making her sweat a little scratched an itch in you that you had not been able to reach for a while.

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Part 11

Eddie after reader is done with him image courtesy of @tenthmoon

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It's so damn cool that some of you have made it this far and continue to want to know what goes on with reader and our boys! It warms my heart in a way I'm having trouble expressing in words xoxo

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Taglist for my other Hell's Belles and Coffin Kings ❤️‍🔥 @texasblues @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @lilpotatobean2 @dandelionnfluff @munsons-mayhem28 @eddiemunson95 @tlclick73 @clincallyonline17 @kelsiegrin @stylesxmunson @nope-thanks @lofaewrites @layla-loves-ed @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @whatwedontdointheshadows @falling-solar-system @miarosso @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @emxcast @secretdryrose @bexreadstoomuch @ms1oftheboys @dream-a-little-nightmare @hellv1ra @manicmagicmayhem @etherealglimmer @unfocused81 @notsobubblybaby @trufflshuffle12 @aysheashea @leilalaufeyson02 @ireidsmut @trixyvixx @tenthmoon

#eddie munson x reader #eddiemunsonseries #eddie munson fic #bikereddiemunson #bikersteve #older eddie munson #older!eddie #eddiemunsonsmut #90s au #90s music #older steve harrington

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coolshadowtwins · 7 months ago

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Barbie Princess and the Pauper.

SVSSS.

If you make SY Annalise, and SJ Erika, that fits with their backstories. The princess is the rich kid and the pauper is the former slave. (The image of SJ glaring at SY instead of singing ‘I’m just like you~’ is so funny to me.)

Then that would make LBH Julian, Annalise’s tutor. As I started writing this post, I was going to argue flipping SY and SJ around, because it would make sense for LBH to be King Dominic, but then I actually thought things through.

You have Prince Shen Yuan, who is going to be married to a foreign king to save his kingdom. He doesn’t want to do it. All he wants to do is read his trashy books, and is actually a little in love with his servant LBH, but he will for his people. Duty and all that.

Shen Jiu works in a dress shop in town. They don’t own him, technically. Not in the same way his past masters did. But in every way that matters, really. He owes them a great deal of money, so he can’t leave. And it’s… fine. It’s not the worst job, even if he will be working there forever after his childhood friend tragically abandoned him. But he gets food most days and the ladies (other than the owner) like him. This doesn’t stop him from being a angry, bitter man, of course. He’s still SJ after all lol

They may or may not sing a duet about doing what’s right, in the name of duty.

SY wants to see the city, just one time before he’s trapped in the castle! So LBH takes him downtown, where SY runs into SJ. They may or may not have a musical number about how much they look alike.

Then, like the movie, SY gets kidnapped. I don’t know who Preminger is here. I thought about it, and I can’t decide who to put there. It can’t be LBH’s family, tho, because then why is he there as a servant??? Anyway, SY gets kidnapped, so LBH drags SJ kicking and screaming to the castle to play the Prince while he investigates on the side. They may or may not have a musical number about LBH trying to teach SJ to be a Prince.

But then SJ has to go on a date with SY’s fiancé! And it turns out!!! The foreign king is YQY!!!!

YQY had thought SJ dead. He’s been practically a zombie for years, believing that he had failed SJ, and ruling the kingdom on autopilot. Why is he a king now? Uh, long lost son or something. Anyway, when he sees SJ, pretending to be SY, he freezes up. But then he convinces himself that it can’t be SJ! Because this is SY, obviously, who has very dedicated records keeping tract of the fact that yes, the Prince was indeed the prince his entire life and not a former slave. So he spends this entire date upset that he’s falling in love and betraying/replacing SJ.

On SJ’s part, he’s also upset about how much he likes YQY. He doesn’t recognize YQY as Qi-Ge, of course, but it still feels like he’s replacing him. Also, this isn’t his life. This isn’t his fiancé. Either SY will come back, and marry him and SJ will go back to the dress shop alone. Or SJ will stay the Prince forever, with the knowledge that none of this was every his, and he only got it by stealing another man’s life.

They may or may not sing a romantic duet that hides all the angst they are feeling.

Of course, SJ gets found out rather quickly after that. LBH has been caught and thrown in with SY, leaving no one to stop SJ from going to jail for the disappearance of the Prince. YQY is devastated to hear that SJ would do something like that, but more than that, YQY is elated to hear that this isn’t SY. It’s an unknown SY look alike, and how many of those can there be out there??? This has to be SJ, and now YQY has to help him out of prison.

Then SY and LBH escape, and come save the day, and find precious geodes to save the kingdom, etc etc etc. SY and LBH confess to each other, and live happily ever after, while YQY (after breaking SJ out of prison in a very illegal way) tearfully tells SJ that he is sorry and that he thought he was dead and he couldn’t find him and-

SJ, who just got broken out of prison by the foreign king that he had went on a date with earlier by pretending to be someone else, can only stare as he realizes that this is Qi-Ge.

SJ strings him along for a year until he feels he can accept any apology. And then they get married, because he is not passing up the chance to be a ruler of a country. Who do you think he is??

#this got so QiJiu heavy?#I didn’t mean to do that lol #svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #luo binghe #qijiu #bingqiu #barbie princess and the pauper

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gumdayshere · 2 months ago

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Kanto x Reader!! (Pkmn)

Characters: Red, Blue/Green,Leaf,Lorelei,Bruno,Lance,Erika,Sabrina, Giovanni,lt Surge and Koga!

Sorry for bad English!!

Red 🎯

-; a really relaxed and shy man, even with his partner.

-; only you could hear him speak. complete sentences and even in a row

-; he would always be willing to go on adventures, especially to other regions.

-; maybe his words are minimal, but he always leaves details.

-; he has a folder in his gallery exclusively for photos and memories with his partner.

-; he will always tell you about his encounters with wild Pokémon, and anecdotes when completing the pokédex

-; it is very difficult for him to express his feelings, be patient with him.

-; if you spend a lot of time with Blue or Leaf, he will feel somewhat jealous.

-; he is a good cook.

-; he definitely wants to be a male-wife.

Blue 🌀

-; he will show you off to the point where he can't.

-; in case you ask him about Pokémon training, he would be more than willing to teach you, and he would like to take you to the league.

-; He would make a place for you at the gym so you can watch the activities, and he would often look at you, smiling.

-; He would be very happy if you would comb and fix his hair.

-; He uses perfumes with sweet scents.

-; He loves back massages, especially after a tiring day at the gym.

Leaf 🌿

-; He lives taking walks and photographing wild Pokémon, when he sees something interesting, he will not hesitate to send it to you.

-; When he finds flowers, stones, or something that reminds him of you, he brings them to you.

-; He is very curious

-; His love language is physical contact, lots of hugs and kisses.

-; He likes you to choose his outfits or help him with that, he is not the best at fashion.

-; He gets excited very easily with any gift.

-; He is clumsy.

-; He tends to catch colds easily.

Lorelei 🧊

-; She is vain at first glance, but affectionate and understanding when you meet her.

-; Even though it may not seem like it, she suffers quite a bit from the cold, but she loves how ice and snow look, so for her, it's worth it.

-; She loves necklaces and anything that has crystals or precious stones, if you give her that, she would be totally at your feet.

-; She is a relaxed and calm woman.

-; Sometimes she trips on her heels.

-; Her favorite date is to walk on Lapras.

-; She is afraid of losing her glasses in combat or on trips.

-; A very good swimmer, if she is in a relationship with someone, she should definitely know how to swim, and if not, she loves to teach.

-; Bad at cooking.

-; She is bossy, even though she later feels guilty, since she thinks she was too harsh, she lives in fear of going too far.

Bruno 🪨

-; Quiet and reserved.

-; Blushes very easily

-; His partner becomes his motivation to train, and he loves that he is present when he does it

-; After winning a fight, he smiles at you, as a sign that he dedicates his victory to you.

-; He is extremely affectionate in private, but very reserved in public.

-; Very talkative.

-; He would ask you to help him with the wounds and small scratches that he gets from training.

-; He goes to sleep early.

-; He loves home-cooked food.

-; He is allergic to chocolate.

-; His ideal date is on a mountain far from the cities, a private place to be with the one he loves.

Lance 📌

-; is somewhat impulsive.

-; would give his life for his partner.

-; is very happy to see you spending time with his Dragonite.

-; is insecure.

-; can be somewhat jealous.

-; does not like jokes very much, is a very serious person, even with his partner.

-; took a long time for him to trust you.

-; does not usually tell his problems.

-; sometimes is distant, but in his moments, is affectionate and loves to fill the face of the person he loves with kisses.

- wants to have children, even though he feels that he would be a bad father.

Erika 🍀

-; is very calm

-; loves dates in the forest

-; tea is his life, spends a lot of time talking to you about it.

-; likes sweets, bring him things like chocolates and he would melt.

-; loves to hold your hand.

-; shows affection in public.

-; Her love language is varied.

-; She always brings you flowers.

-; She wakes up early, when she does she goes to the forest and if she finds something curious or pretty, she gives it to you when you wake up.

- 0% jealous, she is very relaxed with relationships.

Sabrina 🔮

-; She is a serious girl, but not bitter, she enjoys jokes, especially those from her partner.

-; She loves dates at night.

-; She reads too much, and always tells you about her readings.

-; She is fascinated with the stars.

-; She considers meeting you and being your partner as something destined.

-; She loves poetry.

-; She draws in her free time.

-; She says goodbye with a kiss on the cheek.

-; She doesn't blush easily.

-; She shows slight affection in public.

Giovanni 🎱

-; Even though it is hard for him to admit it, he feels guilty about his son, and he would vent to you if you gave him the chance.

-; He feels that after everything he did, he doesn't deserve to be loved.

-; He shows love through gifts, lots of gifts.

-; He loves that you spend time with Persian.

-; His threatening side disappears when he's with the people he loves.

-; He's afraid that his reputation will affect you.

-; He's a bad cook.

-; He blushes easily, and is embarrassed by it.

-; He likes the smell of flowers, if you give him a bouquet, he would melt, his favorites are tulips.

Surge ⚡

-; he is too affectionate, he can't resist.

-; he would give his life for his partner.

-; he loves to carry you, to have you in his arms like a princess.

-; very cooperative with everything.

-; he is someone explosive at times.

-; somewhat overprotective.

-; he always has moments to tell you how much he loves and appreciates you.

-; he melts very easily, with a couple of caresses he is at your feet.

-; he loves sleeping with you, hugging and putting his face on your shoulder.

-; he always says that you are the mother of his Raichu.

Koga ☂️

-; he is serious and of few words.

-; he feels somewhat insecure, since rather than being a gym leader, he wanted to be a champion or part of the elite four.

-; he blushes easily.

-; he does not like to show affection in public.

-; he is direct with words.

-; shy.

-; Hug fan, please give the poor guy hugs.

-; doesn't know much about the concept of love.

-; definitely wants kids.

-; thoughtful.

-; overprotective.

#pokemon #pokeblr #headcanon #reader insert #x reader #red #blue #green #leaf #elite four lance #elite four bruno #elite four #lt surge #gymleader

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suddencolds · 1 year ago

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The Worst Timing | [1/?]

hello!! I've been wanting to write a longer h/c fic for awhile. This is the exposition/first installment to that (4.8k words).

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I've written for these two!

Summary: Yves invites Vincent to a wedding, in France, where the rest of his family will be in attendance. It's a very important wedding, so he's definitely not going to let anything—much less the flu—ruin it. (ft. fake dating, an international trip, downplaying illness, sharing a hotel room)

—

“A wedding,” Vincent repeats.

“Yes,” Yves says. “A wedding.”

It’s his cousin Aimee’s wedding—she’s four years older than he is. Back when he’d gone with his family back to France over the summers, she’d been one of the people he’d grown quickly to look up to—someone who knew the ins and outs, it seemed, to every stage of life he was in the process of stumbling through.

Yves has always been used to being looked up to—one of the natural consequences, perhaps, of being the eldest in his immediate family—and he likes to think that he’s good at giving off the impression that he has things figured out. But he’d grown close to Aimee at their family reunions precisely because she was everything he tried to be: strong-willed and resilient, self-sufficient even in the face of hardship.

Aimee’s getting married to Genevieve—someone who Yves has only met a couple times, but who manages to be one of the sweetest people he’s ever met. All in all, it’s a wedding he wouldn’t miss under any circumstances.

Leon, his brother, and Victoire, his sister, will be there, along with Aimee’s friends and the rest of his extended family. The problem is that Leon keeps in touch with Mikhail. Mikhail let slip that Yves has been seeing Vincent. Leon told Victoire, who told Aimee. And now Aimee is offering to pay for Vincent’s plane ticket to their wedding in France in the spring—a bit of a last minute arrangement, but she’d sounded so excited at the prospect that Yves was finally seeing someone new (“I’d love to meet him,” she’d said over the phone, “would it be too much to ask him to take a couple days off work? Oh my gosh, please give me his contact details, I’ll send him an invitation,” and she’d sounded so excited about it that he hadn’t had it in him to turn her down).

“It’s very last minute,” he says, “but my cousin’s getting married, and she really wants to meet you. It’ll be some time in early March, in Provence. She says she’ll pay for your flight, if you want to go, but you’d probably have to take a couple days off.”

“Oh,” Vincent says, blinking at him. “And you want me to be there?”

“Of course I do,” Yves says. “I think it’s more a question of whether you want to be there.”

Vincent looks back at him, his expression carefully blank. “Are you sure you want to introduce me to your family? That doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that you’d take lightly.”

“They want to meet you,” Yves says. “And I wouldn’t mind introducing you. I think they would really like you.”

“It would be a waste of your time,” Vincent says, quietly, “to introduce me as someone you’re serious about if we’re just planning to break things off.”

Yves is well aware of the fact. This arrangement with Vincent—the trust he places in Vincent; the practiced familiarity, the feigned intimacy—has an expiration date. The fact that he doesn’t know when the expiration date is doesn’t change the fact that it will, inevitably, end—when Erika gets the point, or fades from Yves’s life entirely; when Vincent finds someone he considers worthy of pursuing in actuality; when either of them become interested in dating again. Whatever it is that ends up ending things, Yves knows: what he has with Vincent right now is strictly temporary.

Perhaps it would be disingenuous to lie to his family about who exactly Vincent is to him. But then again, Yves thinks it isn’t much worse than any other relationship, with all of its ups and downs, all its hopes and uncertainties. It’s not like he can ever guarantee that a relationship is certain to work out, no matter how serious he feels about it in the moment. So is there really any harm to introducing Vincent as his current partner—as someone he feels certain about now, but maybe not always—and to leave it at that?

“It’s not really going to be my day, in the first place,” Yves says. “My relationship status is more of a conversation starter than anything. And even if you go by the timeline we told Erika, we haven’t even been together for a year. I don’t think my family will think much of it other than, like, a small and noncommittal window into what I’ve been up to. So it’s really up to you.”

“I think it would be fun,” Vincent says, “though only if you’re sure about having me there.”

“Great. I’m sure,” Yves says. “Everyone will love you.” He does think it’s true. Something about Vincent tends to have that effect, he thinks.

—

The fact that he and Vincent are traveling together is not exactly a secret.

Vincent agrees it’s best shared on a need-to-know basis—they won’t be the ones to bring it up, but if someone asks about it, they’ll answer honestly. It would be more work, Yves thinks, to have to coordinate lies about this.

But he runs into trouble not even two weeks later.

“So you and Vincent are taking the week off,” Cara says to him carefully, over lunch.

“Yes,” Yves says.

“Any plans?”

“I’m actually flying to France,” Yves tells her, uncertain about whether or not he should mention Vincent’s involvement—if Vincent has talked to Cara about this already, there’s no point in hiding anything, but he should be careful with the information he discloses otherwise. “One of my cousins is getting married there.”

“Oh,” Cara says, all too knowingly. “What a coincidence. Vincent told me he’s also planning on going to France.”

“I… heard,” Yves says, slowly. “He’s told me as much.”

“I didn’t realize France was such a popular tourist destination for march,” Cara says, smiling at him. “I thought most people went over the summer.”

“You know what they say,” Yves says. “France’s beauty knows no seasons.”

“You should ask Vincent which part of France he’s visiting,” Cara says, with a smirk. “Maybe you guys can book a hotel together.”

Yves is positive he’s being laughed at. “It’s the third largest country in Europe,” he says. “I’m sure the chance of us ending up in the same region is statistically very low.”

“I think Cara knows we’re fake dating,” he laments to Vincent later, in the break room. “I mean, the dating part, not the fake part.”

Vincent blinks at him. “Did you tell her?”

“No,” Yves says. He doesn’t think they’ve been that obvious about it. “I just told her I was going to France. She made some undue assumptions.”

“Oh,” Vincent says. “I told her I was attending a wedding there.”

An impromptu trip to France, over the same week at the tail end of busy season, to attend a wedding. Separately. Yves is starting to understand where Cara's suspicions might’ve come from.

“That would do it,” he says.

Perhaps they really need to coordinate what a need-to-know basis means. Cara is, thankfully, not the type of person to gossip, from what Yves has gathered, but if their coworkers know, that could complicate things. “I don’t think she’ll say anything,” he says. “But I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d assume.”

Vincent seems to consider this. “It’s fine,” he says. “Though it might prove troublesome when we decide to end things.”

“We can figure that out when it happens,” Yves says.

At some point in the foreseeable future, everything will go back to how it’s always been. Yves had been fine on his own for a long time before he’d met Erika. He’s sure he’ll be prepared for it when it happens.

—

The entire drive to the airport feels surreal.

Mikhail drives them. They leave at the crack of dawn—4am, on the dot. Victoire’s in the passenger seat, dozing off, and Leon, Vincent, and Yves are crammed into the backseat.

Yves sits in the middle—there’s not much leg room to go around in the first place, but he tries to take up as little space as possible, mostly for Vincent’s sake. He and Leon have been crammed into far smaller cars on far longer road trips.

Leon says, “This is the earliest in the morning I’ve ever third wheeled.”

Victoire, who has her eyes shut, says, “It’s very nice to meet you, Vincent.”

“Likewise,” Vincent says.

“Yves has told us all about you,” Leon says.

“Oh,” Vincent says, blinking. “What has he said about me?”

“Mostly that you’re super hot,” Leon says. Yves, who is in a perfect position to elbow him, elbows him for that.

“You make me sound so shallow,” Yves says.

“But also that you’re really good at your job,” Leon continues, patting Yves on the leg. “Did you know Yves likes people who he’s slightly intimidated by?”

“I never said that,” Yves says.

“It’s pretty obvious,” Mikhail says.

“You guys are conspiring against me,” Yves says, and Vincent laughs.

Leon launches into a series of questions—about how they met, about who asked who out first, about what it’s like at work, about what kinds of things Vincent does for fun.

“No wonder Yves is totally whipped,” Leon says, after Vincent finishes telling a story about how he’d given a presentation at a conference in place of his then-boss, who had—due to unforeseen flight delays—found out last minute that she wouldn’t have been able to make it on time. Yves hasn’t heard this story before, but it doesn’t surprise him that Vincent would be able to pull that sort of thing off, even with such paralyzingly short notice. “You’re exactly his type.”

Just great. If anyone could dig a nice, fitting grave for him over the span of one conversation, Yves thinks, it would be younger brother.

“I can’t believe he hasn’t invited you over for dinner yet,” Victoire says, her eyes still closed. How much of this conversation she’s actually been awake for, Yves can’t say.

She makes Yves promise that, after their trip to France, Vincent will be over for dinner. (“Sure,” Vincent says. “Just tell me the date in advance. I’ll clear my schedule.” Yves will have to apologize to him after this—for some reason, Vincent has an uncanny talent for ending up invited to half the things Yves is personally involved in.)

Yves is awake enough to hold a conversation, but he finds himself yawning mid-sentence on more than a few occasions. Vincent doesn’t so much as yawn at all over the entirety of the car ride. Yves has no idea if he’s always up this early, or if he’s just naturally immune to tiredness—another signature of his good genetics, next to the fact that he looks like he’s just stepped out of a photoshoot, or the fact that he manages to look good in everything he wears. Some people just win the genetic lottery, Yves supposes.

For some reason, he finds he feels a little more tired than usual. Waking up early is never easy, but usually he’d be distinctly more alert by now. There’s a strange, uncharacteristic heaviness to his limbs—it’s the kind of grogginess he only experiences when he hasn’t been getting enough sleep for awhile.

It’s fine. They have an eight hour flight ahead of them—they’ll be flying into Marseille, and then being driven up to Provence, where the wedding will be taking place. He can catch up on sleep over the flight.

As they’re unloading the suitcases from the back trunk, Vincent says, “Your family’s nice.”

Yves laughs. “I’m relieved they haven’t scared you off yet. Sorry for the… well, interrogation, by the way.”

“I can tell you’re close to them,” Vincent says, a little more quietly.

When Yves looks over, something about Vincent’s smile looks almost wistful. Yves wonders, briefly, how well Vincent has kept up with his own family. If he’d ever been packed into the backseat of a small car, back when he’d lived in Korea; if over some long road trip, he’d ever had to come up with increasingly inventive ways to pass the time. If his relatives ever teased him, then, about the crushes he’d had when he was younger, or anything else. If the ocean that was suddenly between them came with another, less tangible kind of distance, the kind that even phone calls and international flights can never quite bridge.

Yves doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know how he’d go about asking if he wanted to know. How is it that sometimes, he feels like he knows so much about Vincent, but other times, he feels like he knows almost nothing at all?

—

Aimee has booked him a seat next to Vincent.

They’re a few rows away from the others—I wanted to seat everyone together, Aimee had texted him a few weeks back, but when I was booking Vincent’s ticket, the seats up front were all sold out, so I just moved you so you’d be sitting next to him.

Now, he watches as Vincent pushes his briefcase gingerly into the overhead compartment.

“You must not be new to flying,” he says.

Vincent nods. “I’m not.”

“Eight more hours,” Yves says, taking the middle seat so that Vincent doesn’t have to. “It’ll be over in no time, especially if you take a nap.”

“I have some work to get done,” Vincent says. “Only after the plane takes off, though.”

Right—no electronics larger than a cell phone until they’re 30,000 feet in the air. “I thought this was supposed to be your week off.”

“It is,” Vincent says. “I just want to make sure everything’s still in one piece by the time I get back.”

Yves has never quite been comfortable on planes. It’s not that he’s afraid of flying, or that the turbulence bothers him—it’s more just the cramped space, the noise, the anticipation, the discomfort—all of it compounds. It’s usually difficult to get to sleep, but he’s so tired right now that maybe this flight will be an exception.

There’s just one problem: whoever is in charge of the air conditioning in the airplane cabin really hates him. Compared to Provence, New York’s climate is generally more extreme—colder in the winters, hotter in the summers—so all he has on him right now is a thin jacket. It’d be perfectly reasonable attire in most situations, except for the fact that this airplane in particular is unusually frigid. It’s definitely cold enough to be distinctly uncomfortable, especially considering that he’s just sitting in place. Yves crosses his arms, suppressing a shiver.

“Do you think Aimee will be convinced?” Vincent asks.

“Convinced?”

“That we’re together.”

“I’m sure she has better things to do than play detective over the state of my relationships,” Yves says, with a laugh. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“It’s why you invited me,” Vincent says, “is it not?”

“Pardon?”

“To show the rest of your family that you’re not still hung up over Erika.”

“I invited you for a lot of reasons,” Yves says. “For one, you’re good company.”

“So are all your friends.”

“I thought we could both use a week off,” Yves adds. “It’s France, in the springtime. What could be better?”

Vincent says, “I need you to tell me what to do.”

“What?”

“Your cousin paid for my flight,” he lists, counting off his fingers. “Your family is paying for the hotel. Your best friend drove me to the airport.” He says these things as if he’s listing off all the ways in which he’s indebted to them. “It’d be easiest for both of us if you told me how to make a good impression. That’s what I’m here for, right?”

Yves blinks. “I don’t think you’d need my help to make a good impression.”

“You could’ve taken anyone with you, but you’re taking me,” Vincent presses. “There has to be something you need me for.”

If there was nothing, you wouldn’t have invited me. The sentiment hangs between them, unspoken. But Yves can see it in Vincent’s expression.

“My favorite cousin is getting married,” Yves says, fervently. “To her fiancee—who is also super cool, by the way. My whole family is going to be there. Do you think I’d choose to endure an eight hour plane ride sitting next to someone I didn’t like?”

“Maybe,” Vincent says.

Yves shakes his head. “It’s true that my family wants to meet you. But if I didn’t want you to come to France with me, I could’ve come up with an excuse.”

He twists around in his seat so that he’s facing Vincent directly. Narrowly resists the urge to reach out and grab Vincent’s hand. “I like spending time with you. I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t. You don’t have to do anything out of the ordinary—if you have fun on this trip, that’s more than enough.”

Vincent stares back at him, his eyes wide.

Yves has a feeling he’s said too much. It isn’t Vincent’s fault for assuming this is all just for show, considering everything that’s come before. Part of it is, but another part of him just really wants Vincent to have fun—to take in the sights at the gorgeous venue Aimee’s sent him pictures of, to have a week off in one of the most picturesque countrysides in the world (Yves may be slightly biased, but still) and not have to think too hard about impressing everyone.

“Is that… okay with you?” Yves asks.

“Yes,” Vincent says. “It’s just unexpected.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Oh. Well. I’m sorry if I misled you, or anything.”

“You didn’t.” This time, Vincent really does smile—a sly, quicksilver thing. “For the record, I am very excited to go to your cousin’s wedding.”

“Thank god,” Yves says. “That’s good. I was beginning to think I was holding you hostage.”

He leans back into his seat, suppressing another shiver. Something about the changing pressure in the airplane cabin is making his head start to ache. It’s probably the elevation. Perhaps he should try to sleep just so that he doesn’t have to sit for eight hours with a headache brewing.

He shuts his eyes and tries. It’s no use. He’s tired, and the cabin is quiet enough, but it’s too cold to get to sleep—it feels impossible to get comfortable like this.

So he picks up a novel he’d been meaning to get to—something suspenseful, to offset the monotony of the flight.

When the seatbelt sign flickers off, Vincent unclips his seatbelt so that he can retrieve his briefcase from one of the overhead compartments, and spends the next half hour paging through multiple documents and leaving notes in the margins at a dizzying pace. Yves slinks down lower into his seat, trying hard not to shiver.

“Is it just me, or is it kind of cold in here?”

Vincent frowns at him in a concerned way that seems to suggest that it really is just him. Then again, Vincent is unfazed by New York’s cold winters, so Yves isn’t sure he’s the best point of reference.

“Do you need my jacket?” he asks.

“No,” Yves says quickly. “It’s not that bad.”

“Okay,” Vincent says. “If you’re certain.”

He turns his attention back to the screen, and Yves resigns himself to reading—or, more accurately, trying and failing to read. It’s mercilessly cold, and his head hurts enough to make focusing on any one thing an uncomfortable task. He gets through another couple chapters, finds himself rereading the same passage over and over again, and—finally, defeated—dog-ears the page and slides the book into the pocket attached to the seat in front of him.

The next time the flight attendants come around, Vincent says something to one of them Yves can’t quite make out. Yves asks for orange juice—it’s not supposed to be symbolic, or anything, but on the off-chance that this headache ends up being a precursor to something more unpleasant, he thinks it might be wise.

The flight attendant pours him the orange juice he’s asked for—no ice (right now, something ice cold is the last thing he needs)—and sets it down on the tray table in front of him. Yves stares down at it, blinking. He hasn’t eaten all day, but strangely, he doesn’t have much of an appetite.

He doesn’t register the flight attendant from before—the one Vincent talked to—is back until he hears Vincent’s quiet “thanks” to his left.

Something brushes against his arm.

He looks up. It’s one of those travel blankets they sometimes carry, neatly folded, though this flight hadn’t given them out to everyone at the start. They must be reserved—given only upon request, maybe.

“You said you were cold,” Vincent—who’s holding out the blanket for him—says, by way of explanation.

Yves blinks at him. He’s about to reassure Vincent, instinctively, that it’s not that cold—that he would’ve been fine without the blanket, that Vincent didn’t have to go out of his way to ask for one.

But his head hurts. He hasn’t been warm all flight. To say that the blanket is a relief would be a massive understatement.

“Thanks,” he says, taking it. “This is perfect. I won’t be cold with this.”

He ends up wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, pulling it tightly around him—like a cloak, or like the jacket that he might have brought with him if he’d had the foresight to anticipate feeling this cold on a commercial flight.

It’s nice. He’s still a little cold, with the blanket, but it’s enough to keep him from openly shivering.

He should really try to get some sleep, he thinks. It’s going to be evening in France when they land. A seat away from him, the window shutters are pulled up, but he can see, from the crevices around the window, that it’s light out.

“I’m going to try to nap,” he tells Vincent. “But wake me up if I need anything—elbow me if you have to. I’m not usually a heavy sleeper.”

“Okay,” Vincent says. “I’ll try not to wake you.”

“You can wake me whenever,” Yves says, muffling a yawn into his hand. “Don’t work too hard.”

Vincent smiles at him, the kind of smile that implies he thinks he’s working exactly as hard as he should be. “No promises.”

It’s not easy to get to sleep, despite his exhaustion. He lays there for a while, his eyes shut—it’s certainly warmer with the blanket, but for some reason, he feels strangely restless. Maybe it’s the adrenaline of being here, with his family, with Vincent—on the way to see one of the most important people in his life get married. Maybe it’s the cup of black coffee he’d downed this morning to be awake enough to help Mikhail navigate and, subsequently, awake enough to actually be useful at the airport.

In the end, he falls asleep to the static hum of the aircraft, to the sound of Vincent hammering away at his keyboard next to him, incessant and comforting.

—

Yves wakes to someone tapping him on the shoulder.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m up.”

“A ‘light sleeper,’ you said,” Vincent says. “We just landed.”

Yves says, “I’m wide awake.” The yawn that he hides behind one hand is apparently not subtle enough, because when Vincent looks away from him in favor of staring straight ahead, it looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

Vincent’s stowed away his laptop already—Yves hopes that’s a sign that he’s done with work for the duration of this trip, but more likely he just had to put it away for landing.

“How was the flight for you?” Yves says.

Vincent looks at him. “Uneventful,” he says, at last.

“Not enthralled by all the financial records you had to go through?”

“They were very enthralling. How was your nap?”

“Good,” Yves says, even though he doesn’t feel particularly rested. He’s just groggy, probably, and the headache is just as bad as it was, if not worse. He’s sure once he gets off the plane and gets some fresh air, he’ll feel much better. “I probably needed it.” His breath hitches, unexpectedly, he turns to the side, raising his arm to his face to shield the oncoming—

“hH-’IZscHH’iew!”

The sneeze is loud, embarrassingly, and it scrapes unpleasantly against his throat, which feels… off.

“Bless you,” Vincent says, frowning. He looks more concerned than he has any right to be.

Yves flashes Vincent a distracted smile. “Thanks.”

Everything—from the moment they step off the plane—is exhaustingly hectic.

The hotel in Provence is more than an hour away from the airport they’ve landed at. They have a bus to catch, which means that after they regroup with the others, it’s international customs, baggage claim, and then they’re headed, maneuvering multiple suitcases each, onto the bus. He sits next to Vincent, though on the aisle side, so that he can lean over and interject whenever Leon and Victoire say something that’s worth commenting on.

Other than that, he talks with Vincent, mostly—about Aimee, about how she’s been in his life for longer than he’s known how to write his name, back when his parents would take him back to France once or twice a year. (“She was practically an older sister to me,” he says, “except we never fought,” to which Vincent says, “You make it sound like not getting along is a requirement to be siblings,” to which Yves says, “It definitely is.”)

His parents flew into France yesterday, so they should be settled in already—they’ll catch up with them at the hotel tonight, if it’s not too late. He probably won’t see Aimee and Genevieve until tomorrow morning, at breakfast—and even then, that depends on how busy they are with the various wedding preparations Aimee’s been telling him about.

The roads nearing the hotel are uneven and winding. Halfway through the drive, Yves registers, faintly, that he isn’t really feeling any better from before. His head is still hurting from the flight, and when he swallows, he finds his throat feels perhaps the slightest bit sore.

He’s cold, too, in the sort of uncomfortable, persistent way that’s difficult to alleviate, even with extra layers or with a warm drink. He’s starting to suspect that maybe the airplane cabin hadn’t been the problem after all.

None of that is particularly visible to any of the others—that is, until he finds himself tensing up halfway through a sentence, burying his head into the crook of his elbow as his eyes squeeze shut—

“God, sorry, I— hh-! hHehh’iiZZSCHh’iiEW!”

“Bless you,” Vincent, Victoire, and Leon say to him, all at once.

“You’d better not be getting sick,” Leon says, turning to him, with the sort of tone that implies that he’s joking. “That would really be the worst timing.”

“I’m not,” Yves says, swallowing against the soreness in his throat. “I promise.” Or, perhaps more accurately—he can’t be.

It will be the perfect wedding, he thinks. Aimee has planned it out meticulously, and she’s one of the most thorough people he knows. The weather forecast says this week will be sunny and temperate. He’s here, in France. Tomorrow, he’ll be surrounded by his extended family, and in the afternoon he and Vincent will head off to the welcome party, and he’ll get to give Aimee the gifts he’s gotten for her and introduce Vincent to everyone formally. Everything will go as planned—the welcome party, the wedding rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, and on Saturday, the wedding and the vows.

It will be perfect, because it has to be. Yves will be present, and attentive, and he’ll give the speech he has prepared at Aimee’s wedding, and they’ll all remember this week fondly. Even considering the small, almost negligible chance that he’s coming down with something, there are more important things he has to worry about right now, which is to say: Yves is going to do this right.

He’s going to make sure of it.

[ Part 2 ]

#sneeze fic #snz fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snz #i'm sorry if this exposition is like #comparatively uneventful 😭😭😭#this entire fic was written with the intent of giving people-pleaser yves the worst time possible #so i promise that is to come... in the future (if i have the time and bandwidth to write more and if people want to read more)#yvverse #my fic #fun fact - i used to refuse to write characters with anything worse than a cold (the flu included) just as principle #clearly that changed over the years haha

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otome-corner-cafe · 9 months ago

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I need to dissect the minds of the writers of Virche Evermore.

Scien’s Despair Ending is messing me up inside. I was expecting something else entirely for how things would turn to absolute tragedy.

My thought was that, when faced with the chance to research Ceres and her connection to the curse, he’d take it. I thought he was going to take back his decision to give emotions a chance. I thought he’d double down on his old philosophy and drop whatever feelings he was starting to catch.

I expected for Scien to get back in power and keep Ceres locked up as his new science project.

BUT NO! I WAS DEAD WRONG AND WHAT HAPPENED WAS WORSE!

I thought the worst that could happen was Scien falling for mc and then taking back those feelings. But no, him continuing to love her is the freaking tragedy here!

AAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

#erika’s ramblings #virche evermore #erika’s ‘dating life’#oh also I still haven’t touched Lucas’s proper despair end #the one that gets you the cg and ending song #because the shorter despair ending already fucked me up enough #I wasn’t ready to lose Lucas a second time #but… if I wanna complete the game #I’m gonna have to face the music

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rufflekerfuffle · 2 months ago

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Open to read my misfits and magic takes

I cannot believe K killed Evan but also I can cause they go too far trying to “fix” him constantly without really seeing how that might affect him.

Like Evan’s gotta feel a little weird about how concerned Sam is for him and how Jammer has been so so gentle with him and then K attempting to fix him since they met up at the islands.

It just feels like they care so much and want him to be better in a way they can help. Which is sweet and what you do when the people you love are hurt - but Evan knows he is the odd one out again. The one that people have to be concerned about, the one that needs extra attention. Sometimes I feel like you need that when you’ve been hurt and gone through awful things but other times you just want to be treated normal.

I feel like maybe Jammer is the only one who does that for Evan but Jammer’s the one who took the biggest step away from magic and therefore Evan. So he never really had a place or felt like he could be anywhere without troubles arising, and the group of friends that did help him left. The guy he could be a normal guy around went back to America. K doesn’t seem to really talk to him at all since they stopped dating. And Sam is very concerned for him every time he talks about his life. Seems like when I try to talk about experiences I had growing up and everyone stops and goes “are you okay?! That is not normal!” Which I can tell you it doesn’t feel good to have that happen every time you talk about yourself!

I’m relating Evan a little too hard to my own abuse survivor/mental health journey probably lol but he’s a fictional character so I think I’m allowed to do that.

Lou and Danelle are awesome actors I was crying when they were realizing Evan died and doing anything to get him back. Also Erika played shocked really well. Thanks to Brennan and Aabria for making this character and putting him in situations. I love dimension 20 and misfits and magic.

#dimension 20 #misfits and magic #d20 #rant #personal opinion

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sterkeyra · 5 months ago

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Side Character Election - Story Prompts

As the Side Character election is over we are already aware of the winners and the 10 stories that we are going to get. However, among the election options, there were quite a few interesting plot prompts! Some are a bit like fanfictions, others feel like trolling, but some are also interesting because the plot prompt alone tells us more about some characters. So I thought I'll combine all the stories that we will get and those that we could have gotten

Top 10

These are the character prompts that will get a story! You can look forward to their stories soon!

Takeru Momose Her Love in the Force "What if you fell in love with Momose instead of Tsugaru?"

Hayato Miyayama Her Love in the Force "What if you didn't date any of the instructors and started to fall in love with Miyayama?"

Toru Kyobashi Metro PD "What if I became Chief Kyobashi's secretary for a limited time?"

Daisuke Chiba Her Love in the Force "Will Chiba's love finally be returned!? Or…? A bittersweet unrequited love story of his youth."

Mitsuharu Kyogoku Romance MD "Unpublished story about Kasumi and Mitsuharu during their medical student days"

Ryosuke Inui Kissed by the Baddest Bidder "What if you and Inui fall in love?"

Zack Thompson Masquerade Kiss "xx Year ago. When Zack was still young, he actually got to work together with a CERTAIN person?! A hidden story from Zacks past. (Story without MC)

Takatomi Jinguji When Destiny Comes Knocking "Upon receiving a revelation from the Moeki Shrine, you decide to play pretend lovers with Jinguji. Every date with this hidden high-spec guy is a first-time experience. Could this person indicated by the gods possibly be your destined partner?"

Daisuke Agasa Metro PD "Story about falling in love with the master of Monkey Station"

Eito Ichinomiya Kissed by the Baddest Bidder "What if Eito met the child of another bidder? The next generation will have a spectacular crossover"

Not-Elected Story Prompts

These are the characters that haven't been chosen, so they sadly won't get a story. I'll still list the prompts because some are quite interesting and tell us more about the characters, or the routes if they would have ever gotten one.

Also it might inspire someone to write fanfiction, and maybe just maybe they will be more popular if Voltage did another side story election. I will group the prompts by title and have a miscellaneous section at the bottom.

Robosuke (Meguros Robot) Oops I Said Yes "I am alone at home with Robosuke (?!). I'm trying to get Robosuke to tell me Meguros secret"

Ryo Hayase Oops I Said Yes "What did he think of your as he developped feelings for you in Togo's Main Story Season 2? Experience it from His Pov"

Tadashi Daimon (Togo's brother) Oops I Said Yes "While Togo is away, his older brother Tadashi suddenly comes over for a visit. He tells you stories about the time when Togo was still a child"

Mamoru Yushima (MCs Junior Colleague) Oops I Said Yes "What kind of life would await you, if you accidentally got married to Yushima, who always wished to get married?"

Kaito Ichinomiya Kissed by the Baddest Bidder "Kaito, the middle child, is not as cute as he looks but also... What if you spend a day alone with Kaito?"

Yu Ichinomiya Kissed by the Baddest Bidder "Yu is just like Eisuke, he even looks like him?! What if you spend a day alone with Yu?"

Koichi Samejima Kissed by the Baddest Bidder "What if you and Samejima fall in love?"

Erika Matsuda Kissed by the Baddest Bidder "Erika actually worked for a different companies hotel before she changed to Tres Spade a long time ago. Find out about her unknown surprising past."

HUGO Masquerade Kiss "The story "HUGO's Secret" will explore the father-son conflict between HUGO and Shigematsu"

Caleb Townsend Masquerade Kiss "A secret story about Calebs past when he met Chad."

Josh White Masquerade Kiss "A story about how the members of the Garden of Eden (GoE) try to stop Kazuomi from being taught a bad habit"

Theo Maria Bertolucci Masquerade Kiss "Theo hosts a party for Kei that is limited to MCs ex-boyfriends" (Kei's route)

Louis St. Alfans Masquerade Kiss "A story about Louis becoming "family" with Kei and Kai by visiting the amusement park together." (Story without MC)

Takumi Shiba Masquerade Kiss "This is a story about Takumi Shiba vs. Kei Soejima where Takumi is struggling with all his might to defeat Kei."

Kai Soejima Masquerade Kiss A story about going on a mock date with Kai, because he never had a proper date. He ends up getting a little nervous (Kei's route)

Kengo Katayama Masquerade Kiss "A story of the past when Yuzuru, the founder of SHIBA, scouted Katayama." (Story without MC)

Tamotsu Suwa Romance MD "What if you get injured and have to do rehabilitation with Dr. Suwa?"

Kappei Maekawa Romance MD "A story about being indebted to Dr. Maekawa for a day" Taku Tsuchiya Romance MD "What if you had decided on cardiac surgery instead of joining the ICU?"

Mizumi Shirayuki Romance MD "Why does Shirayuki-chan love being kind? A close-up documentary story."

Theo Wilson Romance MD "What if you were Theo's assistant in a hospital in Thailand?"

Asuka Shinozaki Romance MD "A story about how the friendship with your classmate developed during your college days"

Noa (future Tsugaru?) Her Love in the Force "How does Noah feel about Tsugaru and you? A story about a little boy's first love (?)" Shirogane Her Love in the Force "What is the relationship between Gin and Noah? The story reveals the surprising contrasts of the iron-faced man."

Taketo Oishi Her Love in the Force "A love story where you are approached by Oishi, who has fallen in love with you as his senior"

Chaen Her Love in the Force "A story about Chaen being obsessed with you as a public safety detective, and him trying to make you his own in every way possible".

Blood Moon Kings of Paradise "Blood Moon kidnaps you when you got divorced and are heartbroken. During our escape, he gives me the love life I had dreamed of. A story of a wanted man and a love that defies the world."

Kasatsubaki Satsuriki Kings of Paradise "A romance between two divorcees, where love and physical relationships are kept separate. Tsubaki's overwhelming love fills your void, but with the appearance of your ex-boyfriend Taki, a love triangle emerges… Which man will you choose?"

Tomohiro Fuyuki Kings of Paradise "A story about two people who once drifted apart. Despite numerous difficult times, I can't forget his smile. A story of a remarried couple where the former husband had a change of heart and transforms from the worst to once again being your beloved."

Sydney (Tenshi Sakuto) Kings of Paradise "You used to really dislike reptiles. However, after living with Taki, you start hearing Sydney's voice?! You'll hear her true feelings for the first time… A story of female friendship."

Akito Sakamaki Metro PD "What if I had a fateful encounter with Mr. Sakamaki?"

Koichi Minase Metro PD "A story about his date with Tomomi Minase"

Tomomi Minase Metro PD "A story about her date with Koichi Minase"

X PLUST "After falling for the bold fanservice of the flashy and somewhat dangerous X, you wake up in his bed the next morning…?! A forbidden love story between him and you begins with a XXX relationship."

Ys PLUST "Ys is reliable enough to lead ThrONE, that consists of very skilled musicians. However, you witness his true nature. A story about saving YS's past and heart through love."

Zeus PLUST "An unexpected day-zero marriage with your crush?! You start a pretend-newlywed life with Zeus for the sake of him composing music. As Zeus's doting intensifies, the fate of this limited romance becomes uncertain."

PLUST Manager PLUST "The manager of PLUST is always working hard. You work together with him on a marketing plan for PLUST, but when you see his true self for the first time it sparks romantic feelings."

Shizuo Furuya Liar "What if I had forgiven my ex boyfriend for cheating on me back then? The story of an eventful date with my boyfriend when we got back together"

Mr. Takuro Irresistible Mistakes "Researching the unknown ecology, daily life, and his past… Shall we explore the true face of Takuro-san, who quietly supports and cheers on your love from beside you?"

Fuzzy Pirates in Love "Fuzzy's matchmaking story?! While watching the happy MC, Fuzzy realizes it's her turn to have a happy ending and she travels around the world to find her soulmate."

Natsuo Umesaki Bad Boys do it Better "Natsuo is a beautiful, tall dormitory leader with a loud voice. Ume-chan is like an oasis in a dormitory filled with rough boys, however when you catch a glimpse of his "Natsuo" side, you unexpectedly fall in love for the first time."

Yuki Tsukishiro Our Private Homeroom "What if you fell in love with your classmate? A sweet and sour story unique to high school classmates.

Tatsunoshin Uzuki Loves Hella Punk "Love Story with Uzuki" (Separate Setting from Tengokus)

Momogo Sato Dreamy Days in West Tokyo "A story about Momogo watching over the love life between you and Ichigo"

Bianchi Our Two Bedroom Story "A story in which you, a new editor at Seasonelle, start to fall in love with Bianchi at Jinbuono."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My thoughts

The Masquerade Kiss stories are quite interesting and some seem to tease more about the story or relation to other characters! You can tell by the amount of context of Blood Moon and Kasatsubaki, that this is most likely how their routes would have been like if they weren't cancelled. Especially Blood Moon sounded interesting to me. Together with Chaen they might be one of the few Yandere types in the app. Chaens prompt holy moly. I would have been very intrigued how that would have played out. I'm curious what else they have planned for him. Also why can't Chiba just be happy. He got a story but it looks like he is STILL in the unrequited love dilemma :') Also happy to see more content about Mitsuharu! Though i wish it was a what if story with MC or maybe a story with Sen, as we already know a bunch about Kasumi and Mitsuharu, but that's complaining on a high level. Any Mitsuharu content is good content! Speaking of Plust, i was surprised by the sudden amount of steam when you jump to X (gosh he sounds like twitter)! Almost like MC became a groupie ohmy! I can only imagine the drama. The manager being a place short of Tomohiro is almost insulting xD It seems like PLUST or Throne in that matter did not appeal as much as hoped. I still hope we get to see more of it! It's even funnier that Furuya of Liar is that popular even though he is just as much cheating scum like Tomohiro. I guess people actually wanted to see a redemption arc for him?

Another story I would have loved to see is Fuzzys? Because I love her a lot and i want her to be happy as well. It would have been so funny to see how she hunts for men! Also Tatsunoshin! OHMYGOD There were so many good options!!

Now onto the winner I COULDNT BE HAPPIER IT'S MOMO. Sure a CG would have been nice but i keep my hopes, up that we might get one with Tsugaru together eventually or maybe we would even get his own route! But... BUT... they just had to have Tsugaru comment on his win. And he says he's pleased, so Momo is also happy that he entered. PLEASE he's about to get your girl haha Agh. This will be a very interesting story. I really wonder how they'll handle his girlfriend and Momo connection to Tsugaru. I GOT WAY TOO EXCITED ABOUT THIS ELECTION. I am a side character afficionado. Also Miyayamaaaa!!! Last but not least: Where's Tokyo Love Hustle at :') I'm not sure if I'm happy that the rest of the cast is not listed as side characters (would mean their routes got cancelled) or if i'm sad because we might have been able to get some more content with it if they were?

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